


Who would we be (if we weren't who they told us to be)?

by NicePlaceToBe



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Deal With It, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, The Blue and Gold School Newpaper (Riverdale), am i projecting? kinda, but they don't know they're in love, hence the idiots, its brief but its there, no weirdness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:13:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24712903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicePlaceToBe/pseuds/NicePlaceToBe
Summary: When Betty and Jughead drifted apart as kids, they both had to grow up in ways they didn't think they would have to. But maybe, they can help each other find their way back together.Or:When Jughead needs extra-credit, he joins the Blue and Gold and starts growing on Betty, in spite her best judgement.
Relationships: Archie Andrews & Jughead Jones, Archie Andrews/Veronica Lodge, Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper & Veronica Lodge, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, Jughead Jones & Veronica Lodge
Comments: 26
Kudos: 117





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is an AU if Betty and Jughead had a little more animosity in their relationship from the beginning, just a little one-shot sort of idea I had about the two of them learning how to love each other in a world without a plotline that has no resolution. 
> 
> Be warned, I stopped watching at about season 2 because I really couldn't handle the shaky plot-twists any longer, but I hope this isn't too out of character! I really just needed to get this out of my system, though I might continue it if anyone likes it! 
> 
> Let me know what you think, leave a comment or a kudos and I guarantee you will make my day! If you ahve any pointers on my writing I would love to hear them as well!

There are a lot of things that Betty would never tell anyone.

She would never tell anyone about how Alice Cooper controlled every aspect of her life. She would never tell anyone how she liked to stay up late and imagine as if she was the only one awake, free from all the rules and expectations the day brought. She would never tell anyone how her family feels like it’s falling apart. How she felt like she was losing her mind. She would never tell anyone how she wished to escape- from her family, from Riverdale, from herself.

(She would never tell anyone about the crescents on her palms. About the prescription she refilled every few weeks. She would never tell anyone about how she swallowed her feelings with her pills; twice a day with water, eyes screwed shut so she didn’t have to see how weak she looked.

Betty Cooper would never tell anyone how she sometimes felt like she couldn’t breathe. How much work she had to put into being above average at everything. She would never tell anyone how she strove to be told she was perfect, but it always felt hollow to hear.

She would never tell anyone how stifling it felt to be Betty Cooper; how much she hated sweaters and collared shirts, how much she felt like pulling her hair or bruising her own skin when everything was too much to bear, how tired she was of having to put on a show (how much she wished someone would notice it _was_ a show), how much she _loathed_ pink.)

Betty Cooper would never tell anyone how much she sometimes wished everything would just _go away._

-

Betty had never considered the idea that she might not be able to handle everything she took on; she would do _everything_ , and she would survive because she had to, and she would be ok with that because there was no other choice. She was Betty Cooper; she was perfect, and nothing less- not surviving, _failing,_ was not an option. 

Every year she ran herself near ragged- with a packed schedule, demanding classes and an overwhelming amount of extracurriculars.

(Betty couldn’t remember the last time she had enjoyed organising a fundraiser and baking for it the night before; couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a weekend to herself; couldn’t remember the last time she had thought that anything she did- be it an assignment, an article, an activity- was enough.)

But so long as everyone else was happy, what did it matter?

(So long as Betty did everything, then she was _fine._ )

The one thing Betty _did_ actively look forward to was the school newspaper. Journalism was invigorating and writing gave her a voice (one that somehow felt a little more honest). No one expected her to do this. It was her own. The ‘ _Blue and Gold’_ was her space, her choice.

Sure, it was mostly a one woman show, but that was fine. Betty had always been independent, and she could do it. (Or, at least, she thought she could.) As it turned out, it was hard to fill out a newspaper when you only have one reporter. Betty was stubborn though, and she refused to quit.

(Quitting anything was a sign of weakness. Betty wasn’t weak; she was strong, and she was _fine,_ and she didn’t need any help, not from anyone.)

However, the problem still remained. She couldn’t just ignore the fact that she wasn’t _physically_ able to do it (much as she was loath to admit it). So perhaps Betty Cooper was lucky that Jughead Jones’s English teacher wasn’t in a charitable mood when she was marking papers.

She didn’t think that at the time though, when the boy himself turned up in the outdated newspaper office. 

“What are you doing here?”

It came out more sharply than Betty had intended, but they had a history- she hadn’t had anything to do with Jughead, expect for a shared friend in Archie, since way before middle school.

Where they had all once been friends, distance grew between them. Jughead lived on the Southside- all his time had suddenly been taken up by the trailer park and the drive-in and anyone who _wasn’t_ Betty Cooper.

(Of course, Betty couldn’t have known that was when Jughead’s life was being upended, when he was living in a trailer with his dad and was afraid about what would happen if one night his dad went out to the bar and didn’t come back. Jughead hadn't been able to face Betty, not like this. Not when his life was so broken.)

It had hurt, more than she would ever admit, to lose her best friend at a time when it felt like she didn’t have anyone else; Archie didn’t understand, Polly was just trying to get by, her father was complacent and her mother…

Well, with Alice Cooper hissing in her ear and shoving medication in her hands, Betty had somehow given up in this fight for her old friend- it was just so much easier to give in.

But Jughead had never been quiet in his opinions- he made it well-known that he didn’t think much of the Northside. And over the years, this had ignited a hatred in Betty- what right had he to judge her, her family when _he_ was the one who had disappeared into one of the factions that divided their town?

(Maybe it was a little buried resentment as well, because words and good grades seemed to come _so easily_ to Jughead Jones. He wasn’t afraid of ridicule; he was unapologetically a film nerd and a loner and a slightly melodramatic writer. He didn’t care what anyone else thought and let everyone know exactly how he felt about them.

Betty wondered if she would ever be able to take up that much space.)

And thus a dislike was born.

At least, on Betty’s end.

For Jughead, Betty Cooper was intriguing. There was so much she didn’t say, so much you could miss if you weren’t paying attention. Jughead had learnt to stop paying attention years ago- when he realised Betty Cooper didn’t need a Southside screw-up like him in her life, and obviously she felt the same.

Despite all that, he still delighted in their sparring- a sharp back and forward. No one else ever seemed to play that sort of verbal tennis with him, throwing barbs at him and returning them with speed. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it when she got sarcastic with him. It made him feel like he was finally seeing the _real_ Betty Cooper. Not the over-achiever, not the cheerleader or the cupcake-baking, ponytail-wearing, pink-loving straight-A student. Just Betty.

Unfortunately, Jughead- for all his reading and writing and love of English- wasn’t particularly good at picking what words were good for what situations. In essence, he was absolutely horrible at communication. So, unless Betty started the discussion, it was a topic they were never going to broach. Instead, he fell back into his old reliable. 

“I'm enjoying the ambiance obviously,” Jughead replied sarcastically, running a finger along one of the desks to disturb the thick layer of dust that had gathered.

Betty shot him a look, which he pretended to ignore in favour of picking up an abandoned magnifying glass and playing around with it.

“Jughead,” Betty said in a warning tone. She knew Jughead liked to push the limits, but she really wasn't in the mood to play cat and mouse with him. 

“My last English test wasn’t so hot. So, I’m here for extra-credit,” he peered at her through the magnifying glass.

Unimpressed with his antics, Betty protested. “And who told you that you could get extra-credit here? Maybe we don’t need any more writers.”

Jughead glanced around at the dark and small office, taking the excuse to avert his eyes from Betty, if only for a second- because he thinks if he looked at her again, he wouldn’t be able to look away.

“I’m going to take a stab in the dark and say a little extra help couldn’t hurt,” he said dryly, gesturing at the empty desks. “My English teacher has assured me that this is the only way to pull up my grade so. Here I am.” He gave a little flourish with his hands to emphasise his point while Betty processed this information, her face pinched and brow furrowed.

Eventually she asked, “Why do you even _need_ extra-credit? You’re practically topping the class. One bad mark won't tank your grade.”

"As I'm sure you, Betty Cooper, who has never failed anything in her life, knows from personal experience." 

"Hey, I've failed things!"

"Really? Can you name one test you've failed?" He asked, eyebrow raised. 

Betty searched her brain- hating that he had drawn her out through her competitive nature, though half-enjoying the conversation that wasn't focused on making her feel small. Jughead had a way about him of making Betty feel like maybe she didn't need to be perfect- a ridiculous thought, but a thought all the same. 

"I think I failed an eye test once?" 

Jughead laughed at the way she screwed up her face in thought, the lilt at the end of her words making it a question. 

"But seriously," Betty challenged, "why are you here, Jughead? You skate by in all the English classes you've ever taken." 

Jughead wondered if Betty knew that maybe he wasn't so focused on his English grade, rather than having an excuse to relearn everything there was to know about Betty Cooper. 

Instead of saying that though, he shrugged. “Look, do you want the help or not?”

Betty really didn’t want to have to do this- she wasn't sure how she and Jughead could ever mesh to make anything cohesive. But it didn’t look like she had a choice. No one was exactly lining up to join the _‘Blue and Gold’_ and Jughead was one of the best writers in the school.

(One of the best she had ever read as well, but that was irrelevant, and he certainly didn’t need his ego to be fluffed any more than it already was.) 

“Fine. We go to print on Tuesday.”

-

Having Jughead around was weird. Betty had kind of become used to being the only one in the office and having to carry the paper on her shoulders.

On the one hand, Jughead was still irritating with his vague distaste for the Northside and all it stood for.

It was also infuriating how he seemed to be able to get in all his articles on time without a problem and take any edits fairly graciously. While Betty struggle to find time to put words to paper, Jughead seemed to take any free periods to just hang around in the _‘Blue and Gold’_ office and do minimal editing while Betty was bashing out her own pieces for the week.

He was insufferably sarcastic and leaped at the chance for banter, he pushed her to think more quickly, think bigger, be _more._ (Maybe it wasn't all that terrible to have someone match her in a battle of wits.)

On the flip side, Betty couldn’t deny that having less work to do was a definite bonus. Jughead’s pieces were well-written; with wry observations and nicely structured, and a way of phrasing things that the words floated in her mind, days later.

And maybe it wasn’t so horrible to talk to him again.

She had forgotten that he could be funny, that his witty commentary translated across just as well in person as it did in text form. And it was… _nice,_ to have someone who didn’t seem to have any expectations of her. Jughead never demanded anything from her except her attention, her personality.

Sometimes she felt like it was so much harder to put things into words when he was near her and watching her with that engaged light in his eyes, waiting for whatever it was that she had to say like it was one of the most important things in the world. Then again, he never made her feel like she had said something she shouldn’t, like she should be sorry for having feelings- as if she could just be and not have to offer any apologies for that. 

(But as soon as she left that room, it all came crashing back down. Her assignments, the homework, the expectations- everything she could shed through writing was heaped back on her at once. She had to be perfect, she had to be better.

Sometimes it was enough to make her forget to breathe for a moment, as it all pressed in on her, before she pushed it to the side. She had to keep the façade on, she had to be perfect. She was Betty Cooper. She would be ok because she had to be.)

Still, Betty wondered about Jughead, until the afternoon she _finally_ got up the courage to ask him again. 

“Jughead, why are you here?”

“Well, depends on what philosophy you subscribe to. Personally, I’ve kind of been getting into nihilism of late, so I guess we’re living to die-” Jughead, lying on the moth-eaten couch with his nose buried in a book, replied.

Betty rolled her eyes.

“No, I mean why are you _here?_ There are other extra-credit options.”

Jughead closed his book, sitting up as he eyed her cautiously.

“It’s bullshit, really. I got a C on the test, but my English teacher thinks I could do better- something about untapped potential. I disagreed, which was apparently disrespectful. This was a compromise for detention.”

Betty hummed, scouring his demeanour for any sign of falsehood. If anything, he looked vaguely ill at ease with Betty watching him closely. In spite of herself, Betty noticed how his ebony curls fell just across his face, how his eyes flashed with repressed annoyance at his teacher.

“She might have a point Jughead. I’ve been editing your stuff for a month. It’s not C-grade.”

“Oh really? What would you call it? A-worthy?” Jughead’s smirk was genuine as he raised his eyebrows at Betty, who felt her cheeks flush slightly. He hummed quietly at seeing her face warm, filing that information away as ‘interesting’.

“You know you're smart. It’s not worth a C. So, what happened?” Betty pursued, ignoring his attempts to distract her as she got her blush under control.

The silence stretched between them. Betty was about to interrupt it, tell him that she shouldn’t have asked and then flee when Jughead responded.

“I didn’t study for the test because I didn’t have time to study. I had to work.”

At Betty’s questioning look, he elaborated, avoiding her gaze as he fiddled with his suspenders and set his face in an apathetic mask.

“My dad kind of fell off the wagon again,” he laughed, a little bitterness tinging the edges. “Which means that _I_ have to drag us both back on.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried,” Betty winced at her own inept social nature.

She buried herself back in her computer and she heard him shuffle his things around. When he spoke next, his soft tone was enough to make her head shoot up.

“I wouldn’t have told you if I didn’t want to, Betty.”

Lost for words, Betty found herself staring at him.

Looking at Jughead now, she could see all the differences in him.

There was a maturity he had always carried- but she felt like it was a little lighter here than anywhere else, as if he didn’t have to hold the weight of the world on his shoulders. There was the wry turn of his mouth, the sarcasm in his eyes, the cynicism that didn’t feel stifling to Betty, but like a breath of fresh air- of _real_ air, no lies.

Jughead Jones had grown up into himself, even if the way he held himself was a little unsure now. But then something flicked over and that defiance (the one she recognised from the playground, from the classroom as someone said something stupid, the one that made his eyes light up and his stance bolder) took over, as if to say he didn’t regret anything.

(Betty wondered in the moment if it was only the Blue and Gold he didn’t regret, or if maybe it was her too.

Jughead would later look back on that as the moment he decided to fight for Betty Cooper.)

But he didn’t say anything more. He just gave that half-smile he always did that turned Betty’s insides warm as he slipped out the door.

She let out a soft sigh.

Much as Betty wanted to enjoy the silence, the complete lack of duties for a few moments longer, it was not to be.

It only took a glance down at what she was working on to remind her of all the things she had to do.

(Perhaps it had only been a matter of time.

One person can’t do everything after all, and Betty had been spreading herself thin for far longer than she would ever admit. It had taken days, months, _years,_ worth of build-up to get here; all she needed was a light shove- accidentally missing lunch for a meeting, more stress piling up- to send her toppling over the edge.)

She had pieces to write and routines to learn, people to corral for the dance committee, a million and one projects that she had committed to but now seemed insurmountable.

Fear crashed into her body- she couldn’t do this. There was no way she could get everything done- _she was going to disappoint someone, she wasn’t good enough, she wasn’t perfect, she was horrible, she wasn’t enough._

And all of a sudden, Betty felt as if she couldn’t breathe. An impossible grip tightened around her lungs, as if she were underwater and begging for air but none came and if she were to open her mouth to call for help, she would drown.

_Not good enough, never good enough._

She wasn’t good enough to be a writer, she wasn’t the person everyone thought she was, she wasn’t good enough to be Alice Cooper’s daughter, or Polly’s sister, or Archie’s best friend or Jughead’s friend.

The bottom of her stomach seemed to give out as dizziness hit her, a rock simultaneously weighing down her stomach and sitting in her throat- dread and nausea combining in a horrible mix as she struggled to find air to breathe.

Her hands were shaking, Betty noticed distantly, as her heartbeat pounded in her ears, short breaths echoing in the office that seemed too small but far too big all at once.

She wanted to dig her fingernails into her palms, bring herself back like she usually would but a wave of weariness and nausea blew through her. Why couldn’t she breathe? Why was everything closing in, why was she trembling?

Betty scrambled for anything to ground her, anything at all, but all she could feel was the tightness in her lungs, all she could hear were the words running through her head.

_Not perfect, good enough, never enough. Not perfect, just Betty- who would want Betty Cooper if they knew she weren’t perfect?_

All she wanted was for it to stop, for the ache in her head to ease and her muscles to relax. She wanted to throw up, she wanted to close her eyes, she wanted to _be in control._ But instead, her heart kept pounding and her breath came shorter still. Her throat was tight, and tears tracked down her face.

_Not good enough, not good enough notgoodenoughnotgoodenoughNOTGOODENOUGH_

Jughead wouldn’t say he had good timing. In fact, he would say his timing was pretty shit.

That’s why when he realised he had left his book in the ‘Blue and Gold’ office, Jughead groaned internally. After being so stupidly dramatic and obvious that he liked her, he really didn’t want to go back in there.

His love for books won out over his sense of pride though, and he found himself retracing his steps down the hall. When he got to the office though, it wasn’t what he had expected at all.

He’d thought he might get a teasing jab from Betty, something about him being just as forgetful with his books as full-stops, preferring to just add another semicolon.

Instead, the scene that met him was entirely different.

Betty Cooper- the Betty Cooper he had grown up with, the Betty Cooper he had always admired, the Betty Cooper he was enamoured with- was standing in the middle of the office.

The sound of her sobs filled the small room and her sharp breaths made it sound almost as if she were hyperventilating. Dread slipped down Jughead’s spine- he prayed he was wrong, but he knew what was happening.

Almost on autopilot, Jughead carefully walked around to face Betty, shaking and looking so horribly lost.

“Hey Betty,” he started in a soft voice, not wanting to startle her. “Can I touch you?”

She seemed to register his presence and question as she shook her head sharply- touch was too much, it was stifling, this _room_ was stifling. Jughead nodded.

“Ok, I’m not going to touch you. How about we sit down then?”

She let out a quiet, choked noise, but let herself fall into the couch all the same, blue eyes tracking his every move, even as her breathing remained choppy and tears kept falling.

She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t _breathe_ , and Jughead was here, why was he here and _why couldn’t she breathe and_ _whywaseverythingsomuch_?

He was talking to her again and she tried to listen, only hearing snapshots over the sound of her thudding heartbeat.

“Breathe….. two… and in….. four… two, one and…. Three..”

She understood suddenly what he was trying to do. She tried to slow her breathing to match his, best as she could. The panic gripping her loosened as air filled her lungs, and her sound of her heartbeat and blood rushing lessened.

“Good, that’s good. And in, two, three, four, five. Hold one, two, three. Out, two three, four five. And in, two, three…”

Now she could hear him, and her tears had subsided. Still, her mind hadn’t quieted, and she could feel herself balancing on the edge of a fine knife. Jughead seemed to sense it as well.

“Tell me about what you’re reading Betty,” he urged, and Betty fought to keep her breath still under control, closing her eyes from the effort.

“I- uh…I’m re-reading...”

Words were so much more difficult, sounding fat and lazy in her mouth. She cracked her eyes open and Jughead was watching her, listening. Betty took another deep breath.

“I’m reading… Midd-lemarch,” she stumbled slightly, but kept going. “And-and Dorothea is my favourite.”

Jughead gave a relieved smile. “That’s good. Tell me something else. Tell me about Nancy Drew, she was your favourite growing up. Or, you could tell me about how I use too many semicolons, that always makes you happy…”

Betty smiled at that, and Jughead searched deeper in his memory for something to make her laugh.

“Or, tell me about that time when we were kids and you tried to teach me how to bake and we spilt flour everywhere and burnt all the cookies.”

At that, Betty laughed weakly, smile slightly wet but happy all the same. “You said they were the best cookies you’d ever had.”

“That’s right,” Jughead grinned. “I’ve been meaning to ask you for the recipe. Could make them a roadside Riverdale attraction; call them tar cookies and guarantee if they don’t match the colour of the road, you don’t pay.”

“It’d probably be the thing to put Riverdale on the map,” Betty laughed outright this time.

Judging that the worst had passed Jughead offered, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Betty let out a long breath. “Not really.”

There was a pause and Betty asked, “How did you know?”

Now it was Jughead’s turn to sigh. “I’ve… suspected it for a while. But sometimes my dad gets PTSD from all the Serpent stuff. I figured most of the tricks would translate across.”

Betty wiped her eyes, regarding Jughead again. He had hidden depths- and Betty really wished she could learn all of them one day.

“Thank you.”

“No problem,” Jughead brushed off her thanks, challenging her with a question instead. “But how are you Betty?”

She blinked.

No one had ever asked how she was before- it was always ‘Are you ok?’, which implies the answer is already yes- because it would be an inconvenience if it wasn’t.

Yet, Jughead had asked how she was. And Betty… Betty didn’t know.

She’d had a panic attack, but her scars were unopened. Somehow, here she was laughing with Jughead Jones- someone she had been avoiding for the better part of about a decade. 

Betty shifted her eyes to him and in that moment, she was struck with a chord of clarity.

She only had to finish high school. Once she graduated, she was free to go wherever she wanted, do whatever she chose. No more Alice Cooper, no more façade, no more _pink_.

Just Betty.

(And maybe she didn’t know who ‘just Betty’ was yet, and maybe that was ok.

Maybe Jughead could help her find out.)

“I- I think I’m going to be ok, Jughead.”

And when Betty grinned at him brilliantly like that, Jughead couldn’t help but let the hope that she could like him, one day, live quietly in his heart.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I didn't actually think I'd be continuing this- especially not so soon!- but I got lil stressed about literally everything else and this is a great way to relax so I now have a vague plan and we'll see how this goes! 
> 
> With absolutely no editing or rereading, I present to you my filler chapter!
> 
> Let me know what you think- leave a kudos or a comment, that's how I know whether anything I write makes any sense!

Betty had never considered herself to be a coward.

There were some things she never did, sure.

She didn’t drink milk past the due date. She didn’t talk back to teachers. She had never been in the boy’s bathrooms. She didn’t ask for extensions on assignments. She didn’t tell anyone that she needed help.

None of that made Betty a coward- it merely made her ‘diligent’, ‘mature’…… _cautious._

So no, Betty Cooper had never considered herself a coward. At least, until the day after her panic attack.

She should have just approached the issue head-on; she should have threatened Jughead not to tell anyone, she should have taken hold of the situation. She should have done _something._

She didn’t though.

That next day, as she walked into school, her gut was jumbled with nerves and she was on edge the entire day, waiting for someone to bring it up. But no one ever did.

By the time last period rolled around, Betty felt a little silly for being so uptight all day, for having expected Jughead to plaster it all over school.

That wasn’t Jughead’s style.

(Having spent so many years in his orbit, even at the very periphery, she should have known better. Jughead wouldn’t throw someone else to the wolves that were high-school gossips; he loathed everything about the hierarchy and certainly wouldn’t expose her, not in her weakest moment.

They had something binding them. Even if Betty was reluctant to admit it, she knew in her gut that there was something that made reconnecting with Jughead feel a little as if all the things that had separated them in the first place had never mattered. All the stupid politics of their small town and the social conventions enforced on them seemed all the more insignificant when they were sitting in the _‘Blue and Gold’_ office, side-by-side.

Betty didn’t want to think about why that was- she didn’t want to examine all the things that Jughead made explode out of their neat little boxes in her mind. Didn’t want to think about why he made everything so much more complicated, but so much simpler all at the same time.)

Still.

It had been a moment of weakness. One she would have rathered no one had seen.

If Betty had learnt anything from the Cooper household, it was that weakness was easily exploitable. Her mother had proved that to her time and time again. Betty couldn’t afford anyone to know that everything she did wasn’t as effortless as she tried to make it look.

(Even if Jughead _had_ helped her, even if it was the first time that a panic attack hadn’t ended in blood trickling from her hands- she couldn’t risk it.

No one liked messy. No one liked imperfect. Betty should be better.

Betty needed to be perfect- that was the only way she could ever be enough. The only way that anyone would ever want her, that anyone would ever love her.)

-

Betty didn’t know what to do now that Jughead had seen her at her most vulnerable.

Maybe he _had_ changed in all those years. Maybe he was merely biding his time, maybe he had long-term plans for information like that- maybe it was potential black-mail. Betty didn’t know.

No, it was certainly safer to just pretend that it had never happened.

Unfortunately for Betty, Jughead wasn’t a mind reader.

He had been looking for her all day, keeping his eye out in the halls for a familiar blonde ponytail, the smile that was so obviously empty but no one else seemed to notice. And somehow, all day, he hadn’t seen Betty Cooper.

That in itself was pretty suspicious. Riverdale wasn’t a big place. The populace of Riverdale High was small- so not see someone all day, especially when you were in _the same year_ was unlikely, to say the least.

Still, Jughead kept looking.

Betty might be stubborn and headstrong and would rather burn all her books than swallow her pride, but she was still Betty Cooper- that was what made her Betty Cooper.

She was polite to a fault- even to him, though usually he could provoke a real reaction out of her. So all Jughead had to do was catch her and get the ball rolling. Easy.

As it turned out, not so easy.

Because when Betty Cooper didn’t want to be found, she _wasn’t_ to be found.

Jughead was kind of regretting that he hadn’t memorised her schedule because it seemed like she knew his, because he didn’t know how else she knew exactly where _not_ to be.

Still, Betty hadn’t counted on Jughead being just as stubborn as her, or using _all_ the resources at his disposal to talk to her.

(The idea that anyone would be so insistent on trying to find _her,_ especially after having seen her like _that_ was…. it was something.)

“Hey Archie, how’s it going?” Jughead appeared at his friend’s elbow as the other jocks dispersed throughout the hall.

“Hey Jug. Yeah, it’s good. Haven’t seen Betty since this morning though, I think she had a meeting at lunch today,” Archie’s eyebrows were furrowed. Jughead and Archie shared a few of classes, so perhaps it wasn’t surprising that Archie hadn’t been able to find Betty.

“I was just about to ask if you knew where she was,” Jughead confessed. At Archie’s curious- and perhaps slightly hopeful- look, Jughead elaborated. “We’ve got stuff we need to go over for the ‘ _Blue and Gold’_. If we want funding for the rest of the semester, then we’re going to have to drum up some money at the fundraiser next Saturday.”

Archie nodded; expression more neutral. “The football team is getting in on that as well, there’s some equipment they’ve been looking for and the fundraiser is as good a time as any to petition the parents.”

Privately, Jughead couldn’t help but feel the football team probably didn’t actually _need_ to do any fundraising.

If they did need new equipment (which Jughead doubted, since he seemed to recall them updating all their training things just last year), surely their budget would cover it; the football budget took more than half the whole amount allotted for after-school clubs and sports.

(Jughead had wanted to do his first article on it but Betty had very pointedly pushed a piece about the inflated cafeteria prices at him, telling him bitterly that she had already tried and got told not to bite the hand that feeds you.)

And even if their astronomical budget didn’t cover it, the rest of the town would pitch in willingly without any petitioning. Football was the biggest excitement in Riverdale; Jughead hadn’t been entirely joking when he said that tar cookies would be the thing to put Riverdale on the map- they didn’t exactly have a lot else going for them.

Still, it wasn’t Archie’s fault that their town valued people bashing into each other repeatedly under bright lights- that cost more to run for one night than it did for Jughead’s yearly rent at the trailer park- over any intellectual pursuits.

So Jughead nodded and smiled. “So, you haven’t seen Betty then?”

“What’s this about Betty?” Veronica Lodge sidled up to her boyfriend, curiously arching her eyebrow as she posed the question.

“Nothing, I was just looking for her about something for the paper. Never mind,” Jughead said hurriedly, turning to go.

If there was _anything_ Jughead Jones knew about Veronica Lodge, it was that she was Betty’s best friend- and if she was Betty’s best friend, there was a good chance she had the same nose for bullshit that Betty did. Jughead didn’t know if Veronica knew about Betty’s anxiety, so it was probably best to steer clear of her until he could actually _talk_ to her.

Veronica, however, was a lot quicker on the ball than most people gave her credit for.

“Wait up Jones, I’m going this way too. I’ll walk with you.” Her tone left no room for disagreement as she waved goodbye to Archie and then flicked her sharp gaze to the boy beside her in suspenders.

“So why are you looking for Betty?”

“We’ve got _‘Blue and Gold’_ stuff we need to work out, and I couldn’t find her at lunch.” Jughead thought vague answers were best when it came to Veronica Lodge, and it probably was best not to mention how Betty had been evading him all day.

Veronica didn’t seem to be fooled. “What kind of _‘Blue and Gold’_ stuff?”

“For the fundraiser next weekend,” Jughead gestured vaguely in the air.

“Didn’t have you pinned as someone who planned ahead,” Veronica noted, piercing stare watching for any slip-ups.

“Didn’t have you pinned as someone who would interrogate someone on the way to class.”

Veronica laughed; ice between them slightly melted. “Yes, you did.”

“Yeah, it’s not exactly out of character,” Jughead slid a little more sarcasm into that comment, but Veronica ignored the bait this time.

“So why are you so eager to get a jump-start on the fundraiser then?”

He sighed, sensing she wasn’t going to let it go. “I might not be someone who plans ahead, but Betty is. I figured it would be better if we sorted it all out now.”

Jughead felt Veronica regard him then, but he didn’t look towards her, keeping his head forwards. Still, he searched the halls, in vain, for Betty.

“I call bullshit. You wouldn’t be so insistent if it was about the paper. You guys are meant to meet this afternoon about it.”

“Kind of weird that you know that Veronica. A little stalkerish, one could call it.”

Jughead hated that everyone but him seemed to know where Betty was at any given time. Still, he didn’t need to let Veronica see she had hit the nail on the head. She looked at him calculatingly- it wasn’t like when Betty looked at him and Jughead felt transparent; it was a little like Veronica was appraising him, weighing her options carefully.

“You know, I could tell you what Betty’s last class was, in exchange for the information of _why_ you want to know.”

Jughead did the calculations in his head. He wasn’t a star-student in maths, but he could estimate his chances of guessing what Betty had last period- and _where-_ were slim to none.

“We had… a discussion yesterday, and I think we need to clarify a few things.”

Veronica couldn’t help but marvel at the similarities between Jughead and her best friend. That was exactly the kind of excuse Betty would feed her when she didn’t want to talk about what was really going on. And it looked like Jughead was respecting Betty’s privacy here, so she decided to let it slide.

“Just this once, Jones, I’ll take that non answer. She’ll be in history, Room 14.”

Jughead let out an exhale of relief. “Thank you, Veronica.”

“If you hurt my best friend-”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Jughead interrupted as the bell rang out once again and he disappeared back into the crowd.

Veronica wondered if Jughead Jones knew how smitten he was with Betty Cooper, or if he was yet to discover it. Either way, Veronica Lodge was eager to see how this would play out.

-

Jughead was impatient for the end of the final period of the day, even more than usual. When the bell rang, he bolted out of his seat before his teacher could begin on her “The bell doesn’t dismiss you, I do!” self-important spiel and began a sprint through the gradually busying halls, to reach Room 14.

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be fast enough.

Because, by the time Jughead made it to Betty’s history classroom, she’d had enough time to get out into the hall.

As soon as Betty saw Jughead, she knew she had miscalculated.

She shouldn’t have seen him all day- she had finished all her articles yesterday and had been planning to skip the meeting this afternoon. From memory, he was supposed to be on the other side of school right now.

And yet, there he was, breathing a little heavily and watching her with a concerned kind of expression.

(He shouldn’t look at her like that, as if Betty was the only person he wanted to see, as if he had been waiting for her.)

For a moment, Betty froze.

It was those eyes, that look of respect and worry that had pierced through her haze of anxiety yesterday, a shade of blue that she couldn’t remember seeing on anyone else. Though, with his gaze on her, it was hard to remember anyone else existed, let alone the colour of their eyes.

In that suspended second, Betty thought the air stopped in her lungs, heat rising in her cheeks as the sound around them fell to a silence and everything else seemed to pause. Jughead moved to take a step towards her and Betty felt her head shake slightly.

Everything came back to life as people flowed around them, between them, caught in the currents of habit that drag us our whole lives. Betty hesitated just a second longer, as Jughead watched her- and then she didn’t.

Instead, Betty spun on her heel and surrendered herself into the masses, disappearing into the rush of people.

She couldn’t trust her weakness to anyone, not even herself.

Betty almost wanted to say she wished she could forget everything that happened yesterday. But even if Betty now knew she was a coward, she was most certainly not a liar.

It had been nice (nicer than she would ever admit) to hear Jughead talk about those memories she was almost certain he had forgotten as childhood merged into adolescence. But most of all, he had reminded her yesterday that Riverdale was not her destiny.

Jughead had reminded Betty that she had hope for a life beyond this one- and for now, the future of possibility was all she could hold onto.

When Betty turned and fled, Jughead felt something like a laugh bubble in his chest.

So Betty thought she was going to be able to shake him off that easily?

Clearly, she didn’t remember that Jughead rarely left things alone once his curiosity was incited- especially when Betty Cooper was involved.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, this one took a while to sort out in my head and then I got swamped with a bunch of work, so it is a little short but I hope it's still ok! 
> 
> Next chapter I think I might be tapping more into a Protective!Jughead vibe so this is kind of a pre-cursor to clear the air, as it were. 
> 
> Let me know what you think, leave a kudos or a comment to tell me whether this even makes sense!

Jughead would consider himself a patient person- to an extent. Sure, he was a little hot-headed and had a sharp tongue, but he knew when to pull back and when to let things lie.

So, going against his stubborn nature, he’d given Betty two days after she ran away from him. Two days to ease the pressure, for her to come and find him in a place where she was comfortable so they could talk about it. Two days for her to consider how she viewed Jughead as a person.

It was now five days since her panic attack. And while the second and third days of distance had been a choice, the first, fourth and fifth had _not_. Betty was slippery- very tricky to get a good hold on, now more than ever. Still, even with Betty still avoiding him like the plague, Jughead felt he learnt a lot more in this last week about her than she would ever tell anyone- especially him.

For starters, her memory was pretty good. Somehow, she seemed to be able to remember exactly where his classes were _and_ the potential short cuts he might take to catch her, because she was _never there._

Secondly, she was extraordinarily efficient with everything relating to the _‘Blue and Gold’_. Any articles she wrote were sitting in his inbox when he checked it in the morning (though she never responded to any of his emails asking if she was ok or if she was coming to the office after school).

The time stamps on the emails were worrying though, from all hours of the night and early morning. He pointed this out in a reply to her piece on the dress-code, and though she didn’t write back, he _knows_ she got the message because after that she started sending them at 8 am every morning. That was worse almost, because Jughead knew she was still writing them in the middle of the night, but she was lying about it and trying to hide it and she was _reading his emails and not replying._

Jughead wondered if Betty ever slept, because it seemed that from the quick glances he could catch of her, she was still being Betty CooperTM\- bright and helpful and so two dimensional that it hurt his eyes to look at her. She was still going to all her extracurriculars and doing everything she usually would, so Jughead had to wonder if this was her normal.

(He wondered if anyone else would have noticed if it was.)

But most importantly, Jughead had learnt that Betty Cooper should be on the track team.

As soon as she saw him, whenever he managed to out-manoeuvre her or surprise her, Betty was turning on her heel and off like a shot before he could even catch sight of the shock written in her face.

(He wondered why she was so surprised- surely it didn’t come as a shock that he cared, that he would want to check up on her when he _knew_ something was wrong.)

Because no matter how fast he ran, he could never catch up to Betty Cooper. If they had her running for Riverdale High, there’s not a chance in hell that any other school- even Greendale- would have a hope of beating them.

Jughead would pitch the idea of joining track to Betty with a wry grin and a quip about it looking good on college applications if he didn’t think she’d take him seriously and add yet _another_ burden to her teetering mountain of commitments- or if she would actually stand to look at, let alone _talk_ to him.

He missed her though.

Jughead missed actually getting to see her, sitting with her in the _‘Blue and Gold’_ office in a comfortable silence or lobbing sarcastic commentary at her, urging her to engage with him. There was nothing that quite gave him that rush of adrenaline- the feeling of his stomach dropping in suspense of whether he would make a fool of himself or say something half coherent- as when he was talking to Betty. Jughead hated to admit it, but he craved that high- they do say addiction has a genetic component, and Jughead can’t help but think there are worse things to be addicted to than talking to someone.

Except, of course, when she was still avoiding him.

And what really annoyed Jughead was that he didn’t know _why_ she was still avoiding him. Getting a panic attack was traumatic and stressful, yes, but Jughead didn’t want to drag all of that up. He just wanted to be sure that Betty was ok, that she knew he wouldn’t ever share that secret without her explicit permission. But this game of Hide and Seek was getting on his last nerve.

So, he made a decision. He would give it one last shot, trying to catch her in the halls, before he switched to more… _extreme_ tactics.

-

According to an oblivious Archie (who didn’t know he’d accidentally sold out his best friend because Betty hadn’t told him _anything_ about the panic attack or avoiding Jughead), Betty should be coming out of her meeting for the fundraiser right…. about…. _now._

“Betty.” Jughead didn’t yell, but he pitched his voice in a way that he knew would make it to her.

In a reflex action, Betty’s head jerked up abruptly, gaze immediately meeting Jughead’s as he pushed off from the locker he’d been leaning against, out of view through the classroom’s windows.

For a second, Jughead thought she was going to stop.

And then, she was averting her eyes and slipping away, ignoring his presence as if she had never even noticed he was there.

Well, he’d tried. Now, it was time to exploit a childhood’s wealth of memories.

-

This approach, he had planned a little more carefully than his previous attempts. Intel from Veronica- reluctantly given in exchange for a promise that he would convince Archie to stop using so many emojis in benign messages. (Jughead wasn’t really sure if he would be able to deliver on that- he was one of Archie’s best friends, not a miracle worker- but maybe he could disable it on Archie’s phone long enough for Veronica to be satisfied.)

If Miss Lodge was to be believed, then Betty left half-way through English to go to the _‘Blue and Gold’_ to work out some mock-ups for the paper. So all Jughead had to do was be in the right hallway at the right time.

When she turned the corner to see him though, her eyes widened slightly and she changed direction- like she’d been doing all week.

“Betty,” Jughead said, following her, watching her ponytail sway as her pace quickened.

“ _Betty_.” The hope that he wouldn’t have to pull out his wild card was shrinking with each step she took, as he lengthened his strides to catch up to her. “Betty!”

Still, she didn’t turn around. Fine. If she wanted to do it the hard way…

“I’ll scream.”

“What?” It flew out of Betty’s mouth before she could stop it. Surprised, Betty paused in her escape. She hadn’t expected to see Jughead out of class, especially not in this hallway.

(What were the odds? Too small to count, she’d wager. Betty would have to murder Veronica later though)

She knew she shouldn’t stop, otherwise she’d never be able to get away, but her curiosity won out. Surely, she couldn’t have heard what she thought she had; she’d never heard Jughead scream in her whole life. He seemed to think he was above reflex reactions, there was no way he’d forsake all that _now._

“If you run away from me like you’ve been doing all week, I’ll scream.”

Jughead looked at her, deadly serious.

Betty was unsure, torn between the two possibilities. She had half-turned towards him, though her feet still pointed away, as if she was looking for something to tug her one way or another.

Jughead decided to make her choice a little easier.

“Five….. four…”

She scanned him quickly, assessing. A defiant light flipped in Betty’s eyes- she always had hated being told what to do and could usually smell out Jughead’s bullshit from a mile away.

She spun to face him fully and she crossed her arms, eyebrow raised daringly. “You wouldn’t.”

He straightened, shoulders squaring and jaw set. “Try me.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, each weighing up the other and their options.

Jughead had known he didn’t have a lot to bargain with. Except information of course, but he would never use anything like that against Betty, especially not when that seemed to be what she was so afraid of- blackmail was _never_ on the table; not with Betty.

On the bright side, all this information had some great perks- like knowing that Betty valued reputation and had cultivated an appearance that she was reluctant to be destroyed. So, reluctantly, Jughead surrendered his dignity and got down dirty. If she wasn’t going to make it easy, then he would have to make some sacrifices or- in this case- some big gambles.

If she walked away, Jughead wasn’t actually sure whether he would do it or not. Having anyone talking about her personal life was pretty much Betty’s nightmare. He didn’t want to hurt Betty, but he had tried her way and it _sucked._

So, now it was time to try it a way that was certainly less subtle but might actually give him some _fucking_ results. 

“Three….”

For Betty’s part, she was madly calculating if Jughead would flip the switch if she ran.

She didn’t _think_ he would… but she wasn’t sure. She didn’t know if he was joking, because Jughead Jones liked to make a joke out of everything, it seemed, and she didn’t want to take his sarcasm too seriously.

She should play it safe and flee- just walk away; bargaining with your reputation was a dangerous game to play. Even just thinking about the exposure she could get from this made her palm sweat a little, thinking about the gossip Cheryl could stir up by lunch. But for some reason, it felt as if her feet were glued to the floor.

(Maybe it was because whenever she had seen him this week, he had looked worried; maybe it was because she didn’t believe he would try and track her down all week for a _joke;_ maybe because now he was looking at her as if she were a jumpy rabbit and he didn’t want to scare her.)

“Two…”

She frowned- _he wouldn’t…. would he?_

Jughead raised his eyebrows at her, corner of his mouth quirking. _You think I wouldn’t do it?_

“One…”

_Do you_ really _want to call this bluff?_

Fuck it, she didn’t want to find out if it was just a charade.

Not when there were full classes surrounding them on either side, filled with teens who would jump at the chance to spread the rumour that two seniors had a screaming match in the hallway, or that Betty Cooper was having a breakdown in the middle of class, or that she could drive anyone insane by just passing them in the corridor. (Betty really didn’t want to test their imagination).

“Ok- fine! We’ll talk. Just please don’t scream,” Betty practically hissed, taking a few steps forward to clamp a hand over his mouth.

She hated that she had to reach up to him a little (when had that happened? She used to be taller than him!). She hated that she could tell from the way his eyes shone and crinkled that he was grinning at her.

(Betty hated that she didn’t hate it as much as she should.)

She hated that he had forced her hand, that he knew he had her right where he wanted her- never mind whether she deserved it or not, Jughead was infuriating when he got focused on something.

He mumbled from under her hand and Betty was considering not removing it, when she had a sudden recollection about how she used to get Polly to take her hand off her mouth when she was younger. Hurriedly, Betty yanked her hand back and took a few steps back, disentangling her from the compromising position she had somehow initiated.

(And not a second too late it seemed, since his tongue was already partially stuck out.)

“Why don’t we get out of the hallway?” She grabbed Jughead’s wrist and pulled him in the direction of the _‘Blue and Gold’,_ eager to be away from the possibility of prying eyes.

Jughead meanwhile, let himself be taken into the office, hardly believing that it had worked.

-

“So,” Betty said awkwardly, shifting slightly on the musty, old couch.

“So,” Jughead parroted, leaning against one of the unused desks, arms crossed.

The silence was practically deafening, and Betty struggled not to notice how loud her breathing sounded, how quickly her heart was beating. Instead, she distracted herself with a jab at Jughead.

“Well, you got me down here. Congratulations. You going to say anything?”

It was a little aggressive, sure, but Betty liked to think of it more as _assertive_ than anything else.

Besides, maybe she was smarting a little from the fact that Jughead had managed to work her into a corner- though she did have to admit, she was a little impressed that he had been so stubborn. She didn’t think she would have had the guts to do that- but then again, Jughead had always been a little braver, a little more fool-hardy and confident than her.

Betty didn’t think he would take offence, but that maybe he would at least _acknowledge_ her snarkiness (he always seemed to enjoy it when she snapped back at him) but, once again, Jughead Jones surprised her.

“How are you?”

He spoke fairly quietly, but his eyes on her were intense, looking for the dark purple circles that stained below her eyes, more obvious than ever each time she rubbed her eyes. He traced the lines of her face, trying to remember if she had looked so worn before, so much like she was living on coffee and anxiety alone.

“I’m fine,” Betty brushed off quickly. He didn’t need to know she hadn’t slept properly in what felt like weeks, that she felt herself teetering on the edge of something that she didn’t want to name. Instead, she went on the offensive.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She gestured a little sharply, trying to ignore the laser-like look Jughead was giving her, as if he could see right into her soul.

Jughead didn’t reply for a moment, still examining the shadows falling in the hollows of her cheeks, before he could bring himself to respond.

“I’m not looking at you like anything,” Jughead threw back as his eyebrows knitted together. She wouldn’t stay if she thought he was checking up on her out of pity.

He paused for another second before adding, “Just- I won’t tell anyone. You know that, right? That I wouldn’t plaster it all over school?”

“I… appreciate that,” Betty chose her words carefully.

Jughead had to restrain himself from saying that she _shouldn’t have to thank someone for privacy, Jesus, it’s just common decency._ Instead, he redirected the conversation.

“Why didn’t you tell Veronica and Archie? You know, about avoiding me and everything. You probably could have got away with it for another few weeks at least without them helping me,” Jughead joked lightly.

The pause that followed told him she wasn’t going to take the opening to avoid the conversation again. Betty figured they might as well just have it once and be done with it.

“They don’t… know, exactly.” Betty looked intently at her hands.

Jughead blinked.

“What?”

“I haven’t told them, about the... about it.” Betty tried to sound nonchalant but there was a slight tremor in her voice, a nervous bounce in her leg that told him she didn’t take this lightly.

Then, suddenly it hit him.

“Am I… the _only_ one who knows?” Hurriedly, he added, “Apart from your family of course.”

Betty half-scoffed at that but didn’t elaborate beyond a nod to affirm that Jughead was the only one who knew.

“Right. Well that means… everything makes a bit more sense actually,” Jughead reflected.

Betty laughed a little humourlessly, getting up to shuffle through the template options for the front cover instead of watching Jughead process everything.

Jughead, for his part, let his attention follow Betty as she avoided his eyes and busy herself with paper. He didn’t want to push her, but he felt he had to get it out.

“Are- are we good Betty? You’re not going to run away from me again, are you?”

Betty didn’t like how helpless he sounded there- that wasn’t an emotion she ever wanted to hear from Jughead Jones. She didn’t like how confining her answer would have to be either though.

“We’re good, Jughead,” she replied, not glancing up, posture still stiff.

(Jughead noticed that she didn’t answer him, but he’d take what he could get.)

Suddenly, Jughead felt words tumbling out of his mouth- just anything to make Betty Cooper lose that worried look in her eyes.

“I know I’m not the person you wanted to trust any of this with, but I promise that you don’t have to worry about anything from me. I just want to help.”

Her hands paused, though her gaze was still down.

“You should tell Veronica though. I can understand why maybe not Archie- he comes from a good place but it’s sometimes a little misguided. But Veronica would support you. It might make you feel a little better to be open about it.”

Betty wanted to respond- say how she didn’t want to be the girl with anxiety, how she didn’t want to let anyone know that she had a weakness, how she felt so vulnerable with even him in this office.

But a lump was stuck in her throat and she had to fight back a rush of tears, only able to shake her head.

Jughead took the hint.

“Of course, you don’t have to do anything- you never have to do something you don’t want to, Betty. But you are talking to someone about this? If not me or Veronica, then maybe your mom? Or a therapist?”

Betty didn’t look up.

“You are getting help, right Betty?”

She flashed a look quickly up at him through glassy eyes.

“Don’t worry Jughead, I’m fine. I talked to my mom; I’ve got help. I’m fine.”

She didn’t tell him that her mother just shoved pills in her hands and they never talked about it.

Jughead was sure Betty wasn’t telling the whole story, but surely, she wouldn’t lie about this. Not when it was so important- not when _she_ was so important.

So instead, he pasted on a smile. “Glad to hear it. Now, about this fundraiser…”

Betty took the chance to change the topic with enthusiasm. “Oh! I was thinking we could maybe do a bake sale or-”

“A Betty Cooper classic-”

“ _Or,_ we could -”

“I mean, I’d hate to deprive the crowds of your famous tar cookies and coal cupcakes-”

“It was one time!”

They both let themselves fall back into their dynamic and Betty felt herself relax for the first time all week.

(Maybe, just maybe, Jughead really meant what he said…)

Jughead just thanked whatever it was that was holy and divine that Betty was talking to him again.

(Because while he wasn’t sure if he believed what Betty was saying, there was no way he was bailing on her, especially now).


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. This is- hmmm. This exists. That's always interesting. 
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you think! I can guarantee a comment will make me not be able to stop smiling for the rest of the day and I welcome any and all feedback!

All in all, Betty was pretty glad that she and Jughead had talked.

For one thing, it made it a lot easier not to have to keep two schedules in her head, and it was definitely easier not to have to worry about Jughead popping up every time she rounded a corner. For another, she really had missed just being able to sit in the _‘Blue and Gold’_ office. It was the only place that ever felt like she wasn’t drowning- and maybe Jughead was one of the only people who ever made her feel as if she could breathe.

Unfortunately, much as Betty would love to enjoy the peace for just a little longer, it was not meant to be.

With the fundraiser coming up in less than a week, Betty had found herself all over the place once again. The River Vixens were meant to be learning a new routine, every committee Betty found herself on had decided to pile on commitments, teachers were upping the workload in every _single_ class.

(Betty would swear in court that some of her teachers got positive delight out of stressing them out with countdowns until their assignments were due and discussing what percentage of the year would fail.)

It was just a little much.

So, having the safe haven of the Blue and Gold back was a nice relief- as was talking to someone who wasn’t so involved in everything she was. Betty and Jughead didn’t talk about what decorations they should use for homecoming or how much study they had done for the English test.

Instead, they talked about stupid things.

About how Jughead could recite whole monologues out of any film that had played at the drive-in. How Betty knew the cleaning crew and the office staff at school very well and that’s how she got away with most of her investigating.

About how Jughead couldn’t cook for shit and Betty had tried knitting for the hundredth time and forgotten about it again; how Betty was hanging out for the radiator in Fred Andrew’s truck to cark it just so she could repair it (she didn’t know how it had lasted a year longer than it should have but she was itching to get her hands on), how Jughead sometimes turned up the music playing through his earphones really loud to drown out the teachers.

Just little anecdotes traded backwards and forwards between the two. It was different to how she talked to Veronica or Archie- then, it was all about solutions and decisions and definite answers. With Jughead, it was just about the act of discussion, about the _banter._

(And Betty didn’t want to say she preferred it… but it was certainly a lot better than having to constantly be ‘on’.)

Getting a little distance from all the frivolous worries that pepper the high school experience via Jughead Jones was probably good for her- he made her take everything just a little less seriously.

“Ok, ok, but really Betty, what would happen if you just _didn’t_ coordinate the homecoming theme with the decorations?”

“Jughead-”

“Would there be total chaos? Would the world stop turning? Life cease to exist as we know it?”

“God, you’re _so_ melodramatic-” Betty rolled her eyes.

“ _Or_ maybe you don’t need to lose sleep over the colours of streamers Cooper,” Jughead completed, grinning at her from his position draped on the couch.

“I’m not _losing sleep over it_ -”

“Those bags under your eyes beg to differ,” Jughead knew Betty wouldn’t ever admit she was having trouble sleeping- that she was having trouble with _anything_ \- but all the same, he worried. “But seriously Betty, would it be _such_ a tragedy if the balloons didn’t match the banner?”

“There’s no harm in taking care in the details, Jughead,” Betty chided him, attention on the article she was meant to be editing, with an expression of vague distaste.

“Hey, I’m not saying it’s bad that you care. I’m just saying… you could care _less_ about shit that doesn’t make you happy.” His tone was honest there and there was an earnestness in his eyes, though Betty didn’t look up to see it. 

_You deserve to be happy, Betty Cooper,_ Jughead wanted to say, but couldn’t make the words to come out of his mouth.

“It makes me happy!” Betty protested, though she thought it sounded weak to even her own ears.

“Oh yeah, _that’s_ why you were looking like you were going to take off Cheryl’s head when she was talking about it in third period,” Jughead pointed out, smirking- glad to take the change in conversation tone.

(He was going to have to do something to help Betty with all these commitments- she shouldn’t have to do this all on her own. But for now, maybe he could make her smile.)

Betty gave up on her article, closing her laptop and then propping her head up between her two hands as she directed her attention to Jughead.

“I wouldn’t have taken her head off- her hair on the other hand…” Betty grinned mischievously.

(Jughead couldn’t help but think Betty looked beautiful when she wasn’t weighed down by the troubles of the world)

-

Unfortunately, that weightlessness never seemed to last.

Case and point, Betty had taken on too much, was overwhelmed and consequently, stressed. Well, to put credit where credit is due, Betty _had_ managed to offload some jobs onto other people- namely, she had managed to convince Veronica to help with fundraiser set-up on Saturday morning.

(Really, it was more Jughead needling Veronica to offer her help and Betty being surprised by the offer though still agreeing because they needed all hands on deck, but I digress).

Still, it wasn’t really enough to actually lighten the burden and so, as was par for the course, Betty was anxious.

“I’m sorry, I missed the memo on this one- why are you stressed out?” Jughead asked, watching sceptically as Betty flew around the room furiously from one project to another.

She didn’t respond, still quite distracted by the three articles she was trying to simultaneously finish before the end of their free period.

“Is this about homecoming?” Jughead hazarded a guess that he knew was wrong, but he figured would get Betty talking- and he was right.

“Who cares about homecoming when the annual fundraiser that determines whether or not the _‘Blue and Gold’_ can keep writing is _tomorrow?”_ Betty’s eyes burned holes in Jughead’s beanie as she ranted.

“And I promised I’d make the cookies and cupcakes for the fundraiser, but I’ve got this essay due and I’m not going to have any time on the weekend to sort out the formatting for this edition,” she rambled emphatically. “Thank _God,_ Mom and Dad are visiting Polly at college this weekend or I don’t think I’d be able to take it.”

(When Betty applied to colleges, they had all been way out of driving range or with strong security systems- there was no way she was going to put up with snap inspections from Alice Cooper once she was out of that house. She was getting out og )

“Ok Betty, since I’m _clearly_ the one with aesthetic here, how about I do the formatting and you can start on that essay?” Jughead interrupted- her breathing was getting shorter with her frantic movements and Betty certainly didn’t need to deal with a panic attack on top of everything else.

“You have an aesthetic? What- grungy ‘90s teenager?” Still, Betty put down the mock-ups to pick up her laptop instead, even as she did shoot a sassy retort at him.

“Hey, it’s classic vintage! You can’t bash plaid or sherpa,” Jughead defended easily, glad to see her reclining on the couch.

“I can and will. Your fashion sense is atrocious,” Betty sniped back lightly before the click-clacking of laptop keys filled the quiet room.

Jughead smiled to himself as she fell into a calm sort of focus, grinding out the essay. He loathed having to see Betty so worried. Suddenly, an idea stuck him.

Maybe, just maybe, there was another way he could help.

-

When the doorbell rang at five o’clock on a Friday night, Betty’s first thought was that this was _exactly_ how a classic horror movie would start.

She had clearly been spending too much time with Jughead.

(Not that she minded- not that she ever minded really.)

But, speaking of, when she did open the door- with some caution- she was met with a sight that... really shouldn’t have surprised her, considering how Betty never seemed to be able to foresee what he would do next. 

“Jughead?”

For a second, his voice went missing as he looked at Betty- hair down and smiling, if a little confusedly, at him. 

“That is my name, yes.” He looked a little awkward, but the defiance in his stance offset any weirdness that Betty might perceive from seeing two parts of her life collide. 

“Forsythe Pendleton Jones, on the North side- as I live and breathe,” Betty leaned against the door, watching as his face contorted at his full name. 

“ _That_ is not my name, _Elizabeth,”_ Jughead rolled his eyes. “And I go to school on the North side. Not that weird that I’m here.”

“But this is _suburbia,_ Jughead. Are you lost? Blink three times if this is a hostage situation,” Betty’s mouth quirked slightly as one of her eyebrows raised.

“Ha ha. Very funny Cooper,” Jughead deadpanned.

Betty grinned back widely, enjoying turning the tables on him. “I’m here all week for the folks who missed the five o’clock show. Ten bucks a head, I reckon. You, of course, free of charge, since you’re on my porch. Why are you on my porch again?”

“I don’t know if you’ve heard about this Betty, but the porch is the first part of the welcoming process into a house-”

“I walked into that one, didn’t I?” Betty interrupted and Jughead shot her a remorseless grin _\- it really wasn’t fair that someone could look so handsome when they were being a complete ass_ , Betty would later reflect. “Let me rephrase, why are you at my house, Jughead?”

“Well, I figured that since you’re baking for the ‘ _Blue and Gold’_ , it wasn’t fair that you had to do all the work. So, I’m here to help.”

Betty was speechless for a moment, before she cleared her throat- she certainly wasn’t going to turn him away, even if it was a surprise to see him. “Right, well come on in! But. If you make me burn _anything-_ ”

“Have a little faith, Cooper,” Jughead grinned as he stepped through the door.

“Funny, I remember you saying the _exact_ same thing before we burnt those cookies to a crisp,” Betty replied a little wryly as she closed the door.

“It’s all about confidence, Betty. Now just out of curiosity, where is your fire extinguisher?”

-

They didn’t burn the house down, or burn the baked goods, which was cause enough for rejoicing in itself.

Betty didn’t doubt for a second that Jughead was a shit cook, but as a baker he wasn’t half bad- so long as he followed the recipe and her instructions.

Still, for some reason, she couldn’t dispel the warmth in her stomach when Jughead pulled off his beanie as he declared he was ‘getting serious’, or when she noticed a splash of mixture on his cheek. Or the feeling of peace when they slid the final batch in the oven and sat, listening to _‘Whole of the Moon’_ by the Waterboys in a comfortable silence-and Betty tried not to think about how she could get used to spending Friday nights like this, sitting on the couch with Jughead and critiquing the latest pieces from the New York Times.

Jughead wondered if anyone else checked up on Betty like he did- not big things, never big things; Betty wouldn’t stand for anyone taking care of her. But just looking in, letting her know he would help her if she ever asked.

Just taking some things from her workload- editing his own pieces and hers, re-working the articles to fit them in the paper. Asking her about if she had eaten, gently reminding her to take breaks when she could. Trying to make Betty feel as if she could relax around him- trying to make her feel as valued as she made him feel, trying to let her know that his jesting was all in good fun and more a battle of wits than anything else.

(Maybe it sounded a little stupid, but he always equated their conversations to the standing at the train station, being ready to get on whatever train came next. The possibility, the freedom of being able to go anywhere or nowhere. The world lay ahead and yet for one moment, you stood at the crossroads; not set to go any path but the one you chose.

Talking to Betty felt a little like that, as if he were already out of Riverdale. As if he had left in the middle of the night and never looked back. Talking to her made him feel as if he were free from all the stupid stereotypes and small-world politics that had governed his life thus far. Betty made him feel like he was someone other than the kid in old plaid from the wrong side of the tracks; Jughead just wished that he could feel the same confidence that he had a positive influence on her when they were apart. Because sometimes it felt like he was just a stain to her light.)

Jughead wanted to make sure that Betty wouldn’t have to feel as if she was never enough.

She was so much more than she ever let on- she felt more, she believed more, she _was_ more. She wasn’t just a student or a daughter or a cheerleader- she had so many more faces than the singular one she showed. But Betty didn’t seem to see that in herself- that to Jughead, she would never need to pretend to be perfect. She just was- or maybe she was better than perfect.

(She was Betty- and that’s all Jughead has ever really wanted.)

-

When Betty woke up early the next morning, it was to the realisation that after Jughead left last night, she forgot to set her alarm. Instead, she woke to the sound of her phone ringing loudly before she could answer the call.

“Hello?” Betty mumbled blearily into the phone.

“Hey Betty! Just calling to tell you we got some last-minute volunteers for set-up, so we don’t need you to come in early! Isn’t that great?” Veronica enthused over the line.

Betty felt a little like she was underwater as she sat up, still not comprehending. “What?”

“Yeah, some people came to help who we didn’t expect to come, so you’re off the hook Cooper.”

“Who came?” Betty asked suspiciously.

She knew everyone in Riverdale High- the chances that anyone had spontaneously decided to participate in school-spirit activities that involved losing their early Saturday morning was… unlikely, to say the least.

“Ummmm…” Veronica hummed, distracted, and Betty could hear someone distantly in the background.

_“Is that Betty?”_

“ _Yeah_ , _it is,”_ Veronica hissed at whoever was with her before replying to her best friend _. “_ Well Betty, uh, it was-”

“ _Hang up.”_

“Excuse me _one second,_ B,” Veronica told her before Betty heard the rustling sound of the receiver being blocked.

Muffled, she could just make out Veronica’s end of a whispered conversation.

_“She’s asking-_ ”

There was the mumble of another voice before Veronica spoke again.

“ _No_ , _I can’t just hang up! She’ll just-_ ”

Another break until:

_“I’m not doing that! You know she won’t take that as an answer- you better than anyone!”_

There was a long pause before Veronica removed her hand from the speaker.

“Everything ok, V?”

“Hi Betty, yeah sorry, everything’s fine. I’ve just got to help with the setting up.”

“Wait, who were you talking to? Veronica?”

“Gotta go, love you Betty!” Veronica railed over her before she ended the call.

“Are you ever going to tell her that you like her Jughead?”

“I’m _sure_ I don’t know what you’re talking about Veronica. Would you take these flyers over to the football booth, _way_ over there?” Jughead pressed the box into her hands as she pocketed her phone.

Veronica sighed and readjusted her dress slightly before she arched an eyebrow at him. “Am I allowed to tell her that you’re the one who got here early to set-up, scowl ready and with a bribed football team backing you up, so she could sleep in?”

“Am I allowed to tell her you’re the one who paid for the mechanic for Fred Andrew’s car?” He shot back, only half sarcastic.

Veronica huffed.

“How was I meant to know she wanted to repair it?”

Jughead shrugged; Betty rarely talked about her love for cars anymore, not since middle school as far as Jughead could remember. Which was a shame, since Jughead had always loved listening to Betty talking about things she liked. Still, when she got comfortable enough, she would sometimes mention it, though it was certainly easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it. Betty probably wouldn't blame Veronica, but she would be devastated she had missed her chance to play around in Fred Andrew's truck. 

Despite knowing all this, Veronica acquiesced.

“Fine, fine! Keep your secrets then, Jones. I guess I’ll just go help Archie.”

“You do that, Veronica,” Jughead distracted himself with moving about more boxes full of unnecessary things.

Veronica let it go, because she didn’t want to upset Betty, especially since Betty had been so busy for so long- and Veronica was glad to see Jughead helping her through it.

And if Jughead Jones couldn’t handle the teases yet, well, once those two got together, Veronica was sure Betty would mellow him a little.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think of this one! Leave a comment or a kudos to tell me whether or not this AU is working!

It’s amazing how much we don’t notice that we’re uncomfortable when it’s all slowly building pressure.

You’d realise immediately if you missed a night’s sleep or forgot to drink for a whole day and remedy the situation, but when it’s a gradual adding up, you never see it. You don’t think much of losing that extra half-hour of sleep every night or skipping a snack for a week because you’ve been so busy.

It’s acclimatisation. You don’t notice the effects because they aren’t instantaneous. You just get used to feeling tired or hungry or sad or stressed and stop thinking about why. At least, until it all boils over- as it inevitably does- and you’re left wondering why you’re crying over a paper jam in a printer and how long that pressure has been developing.

Or so it usually goes. In the case of Betty Cooper, not quite so. Her breakdown was not so much prompted by that annoying bit of paper that crinkles slightly and causes the printer to have a meltdown. Instead, it would be the result of something a little less common- something that she had always felt vulnerable about and would hate to incur for the wrong reasons.

Betty’s breakdown was the result of someone caring.

-

The second time Betty woke on Saturday, it was a slow coming to- not like the blaring alarms she usually woke up to with a shock, heart already pounding, and breath caught.

Instead, she lay for a few moments, warm and comfortable, and enjoyed feeling content and not tired for the first time in weeks. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she had been so relaxed. Not having sleep try and pull her back under or weigh down her eyelids was a nice change, Betty had to admit.

Still, she knew that the longer she waited, the harder it would be to ever get up. So, Betty half reluctantly dragged herself out of bed, to start getting ready. She picked through her clothing- anything that was pink seemed abhorrent to her today, when she was feeling so energised, so ready, so… herself.

Betty had felt it in flashes; when she listened to particular songs or read certain books or wrote for the _‘Blue and Gold’_ ; or when she was with Jughead, being sarcastic and confident and _safe,_ in herself. But never before had she felt it waking up in the morning in this pretty pink nightmare of a room.

She didn’t want to think about why she felt so happy now, why she didn’t feel as if she were playing an uncomfortable part. Betty didn’t want to consider why it was that the cords around her lungs were no longer pulled tight but relaxed, as if she could finally breathe. Instead, Betty got up and started brushing her hair, as she did every morning, to put it up into the ponytail- to lose herself in routine.

Still, a thought lingered in her mind; how long had it been since she had felt this light?

-

Betty wasn’t hugely thrilled with having to spend her Saturday at the fundraiser- her anxiety sometimes made talking to people less than pleasant or easy- but she knew she needed to put up a good front to keep everyone excited.

Besides, she would be with Jughead the whole day at their stall. So, if nothing else, he would keep her on her toes.

(Anyone watching Betty Cooper at this point in her musing would have had a hard time not noticing the sincere grin that overtook her face.)

Who, speak of the devil, happened to be sitting on a bench as Betty approached the park.

(They had wanted to do it in the school, but Riverdale High wasn’t big enough to house most of the town in its halls even if they could fit all the stalls there. And, God forbid _anyone_ suggest the sacrilegious notion that they could use the hallowed football ground for anything other than boys sweating in big shoulder pads. So, they had settled for the park near the town’s square, where they were likely to get a fair bit of foot traffic.)

“You look comfortable. Have you been here long?” Betty asked, snapping Jughead out of his people-watching endeavours.

He shook his head as he rose. “Not long, no.”

Mentally, Jughead justified this. Time was a construct, everything was subjective. Betty didn’t need to know he’d been here for above two hours before she got here. Still, it didn’t make the so-so moral justification of his next words any stronger.

“I am surprised you weren’t here earlier though.”

“Veronica called me this morning saying there was a mysterious influx of volunteers, so I got to sleep in,” Betty replied, grinning.

“Right. And is that why you’re so chirpy?” Jughead tried his best to suppress a smile at how energised Betty looked- he had missed seeing her feel easy like this.

“I’m naturally a morning person Jughead, this is my usual disposition.”

Betty could feel rather than see Jughead’s sceptically raised eyebrow. “I’ve known you your whole life Betty. And you are many things, but a morning person isn’t one of them. DO I need to remind you about that field trip when-”

“Trip down memory lane is not necessary!” Jughead smirked as Betty interrupted, bumping her shoulder into him. “I forgot what a pest you can be. God, why are you so tall?”

“Didn’t we do this last night? That I’m not tall but you’re small?”

“Maybe it’s not the actual height- it could just be the ego. Compensating, perhaps?”

The choked laugh that spluttered out of Jughead was more than enough to make Betty laugh, clear and bright, into the morning, as the sun rose golden onto what would be a day well-remembered by them both.

-

“Betty.”

She tried to ignore him as passed a cupcake to a customer with a smile. Jughead poked her gently in the shoulder again.

“Betty, this is serious.”

For some reason, Betty doubted that.

“Yes, Jughead?”

“I’m bored.”

_She fucking knew it._

“Sounds like a you-problem, Jughead,” Betty chanced a glance at him.

He grinned at her; obviously proud he had elicited a reaction of any sort. “I mean, I’m here with you for the rest of the day, so I’m not sure about that. Sounds like it could be a Betty-problem as well as a Jughead-problem. Unless you want to put up with me like this the whole time.”

“You’re such a five-year-old.”

“And?” Jughead laughed.

Betty chose to ignore his sarcasm. “Well, what would you be doing with your Saturday if you weren’t here? Not that I don’t appreciate your help, but you didn’t have to.”

“Where else would I be but in the middle of a fundraiser selling cupcakes? Clearly this is my scene,” Jughead’s sarcasm was unparalleled.

Betty was about to go on, saying something along the lines of ‘ _You’re hilarious’_ when Jughead continued.

“Well, I mean, I’m not here on one of my two days off because I love selling cupcakes.”

His piercing blue gaze fixed her in place, and Betty felt as if she couldn’t move- and maybe she didn’t want to. It was almost as if he were throwing out a safety net, even as she was falling- and though Betty wished she were grounded, she couldn’t help but enjoy the rush.

All of a sudden, Jughead broke the moment.

“Actually, speaking of two days off, I’ve been thinking about how uneven that is. I spend five-sevenths of my life wishing it was the two-sevenths I actually enjoy; we are wasting our lives-”

Betty could have brushed it off as a throwaway comment. Jughead certainly seemed to have taken that route. But the way Jughead looked at her when he said it, earnest and honest and maybe just a little bit hopeful-

Betty Cooper just really wished Jughead wouldn’t say things like that when he didn’t mean them.

-

After a morning full of selling- and with only a few trays left- they hit a lull in clientele as everyone went to have lunch.

“Hey, why don’t you go get some food and coffee from Pop’s and then we can eat while we work here?” Betty suggested to a groaning and hungry Jughead.

“Oh, trying to get rid of me, Betts?” Jughead asked, throwing a sideways look at her.

Betty hated how easily she flushed. “I didn’t mean to- I mean I wasn’t trying to-”

Her ramblings were interrupted by Jughead’s laughing as he quitted the stall. “I was kidding- but who knew I could make the Betty Cooper so flustered?”

He delivered that parting sally with a wink and a little sarcasm, so Betty could only roll her eyes at his back, even as her blush stained her cheeks.

(It _really_ wasn’t fair that a person could be so goddamn attractive when they were smirking like that and wearing a _beanie_ , for Christ’s sake).

Before she could be pulled into _that_ particular train of thought, Betty spotted Archie approaching the stall

“Hey Betty, how’s it going?”

“Yeah, it’s good, everything’s fine.”

(It had been a while since Betty had said that and meant it, but now she did. For some reason, everything had been feeling just the littlest bit more manageable lately.)

“How’s the football stall going?” She asked, already knowing that in the last two hours they would have made at least triple what she and Jughead had all day. Betty gestured to her wares, “Can I tempt you with a cupcake?”

Archie forked over some cash as he nodded. “I think we’re going to make enough to get the equipment we needed, so that’s good. Veronica’s been a saint with helping us out, at least until the River Vixens perform. Actually, aren’t you meant to be doing that?”

Betty gave a half-grimace that Archie didn’t notice. “Cheryl decided to have mercy, she doesn’t need the whole squad there. And since I’m running this booth and I was supposed to set up, I get a free pass. Though I didn’t actually end up setting up.” Betty frowned slightly at the recollection of the weird conversation with Veronica from the morning.

“I didn’t think I saw you this morning! And then Veronica told me since the football team showed up, you didn’t need to come,” Betty was about to interrupt and ask more questions about that when Archie continued. “Anyway, how’s the next issue of the ‘ _Blue and Gold’_ coming? Any exciting headlines?”

“I- uh,” Betty stopped, frowning as she searched her memory. “I actually don’t know what pieces we’re running this week. I don’t think I’ve read any of Jughead’s stuff for…”

She thought harder, straining to remember the last time Jughead had given her a piece to edit and came up empty.

Betty tried to recall how many articles she had written for the newest edition- it certainly hadn’t _felt_ like as many as she would usually need to. But she had brushed it off at the time when Jughead mentioned they had enough material to fill out the whole paper. She had been a little distracted with everything else lately, especially since exams and assignments were piling up, so she had taken his word for it.

“Huh,” she murmured. “I don’t remember.”

“That’s alright, I wouldn’t be able to remember half the stuff you do Betty,” Archie dismissed good-naturedly. “Don’t beat yourself up about it, you’ve been doing so much for this fundraiser, something was bound to give. Speaking of, these cupcakes are amazing!”

Archie gave a grin, showing a little of the food in his mouth. Betty tried not to flinch at the sight.

“I actually didn’t make that batch; Jughead did.”

Archie’s eyebrows flew into his hairline. “Jughead? As in Jughead Jones? Who can’t cook to save his life?” His gaze jumped to the cupcake in his hand, “What did you _do_ to him, Betty? Are you a miracle worker?”

Betty half laughed, knowing Archie to be as well-acquainted with Jughead’s non-existent cooking skills as herself. “When he has a recipe, apparently, he’s not so bad at baking.”

“I didn’t even think his trailer had an oven,” Archie marvelled as he took another bite from the cupcake.

Betty wasn’t even sure where to begin with that. Distractedly, she answered, “I wouldn’t know, he baked them at my house last night.”

Usually this would have drawn a reaction out of Archie, but he had been briefed by Veronica not to freak Betty out by asking unnecessary questions- especially about Jughead- so he merely nodded.

“That explains why he was so tired,” Archie realised.

“What?” Betty asked absently, still searching the crowds for any sign of Jughead.

“He was tired this morning because he was up last night helping you bake.”

“Wait, this morning?” Betty asked, attention snapping back to Archie in an instant. “I’ve been with him the whole time- when did you see him this morning?”

“At set-up. He’s the one who woke me up to help,” Archie replied, thinking the answer rather obvious.

Betty’s mind leaped from one idea to another, each thought travelling a thousand miles a minute. A possible answer stirred in her mind and a frown set across her face.

_No, surely not…._

_But it_ would _make sense, Jughead had been awfully busy lately,_ especially _when Betty was mysteriously free…_

_Jughead wouldn’t though, right.... Would he?_

-

When Jughead returned from his errand to Pop’s, he was surprised to find Betty looking so stressed. Before he left, business had been slow- he hadn’t wanted to leave Betty short-handed- and she had been fairly relaxed. She had loosened up around him; she wasn’t afraid to give as good as she got from Jughead. Betty had seemed lighter- she had told him how much better she felt for having had a sleep in, however small it was.

Maybe it was that there hadn’t been many sales, and she was worried about not making enough? But no, they had run the numbers and it looked like they were going to be able to cover the costs, even with the proceeds they had now. So what had changed?

It didn’t take long to find out.

“I bring burgers and fries as your humble-”

“Why were you here early this morning to set up? And when were you going to tell me about it?”

Jughead paused slightly in his actions. That was an unexpected development. He put the burgers down.

“What, that I suddenly was possessed by ghost of school spirit? It wasn’t important. I didn’t think I had to run it by you to help out,” Jughead brushed it off.

Betty wasn’t easily deterred. “You _know_ that I have been organising this fundraiser for weeks. Of _course_ it would matter to me! Especially since I never asked you to help because I know you have other stuff going on! And you don’t really get into school things, period. So why did I have to find out from Archie that you were the one who harassed the whole football team into coming down here at six in the morning?”

“Careful, Cooper. You’ll almost make me think you care.”

Jughead replied in a lazy kind of way, as if to say he didn’t really care, which was belied by his inability to look Betty in the eye. He couldn’t help but notice that she hadn’t said she cared because they were friends, or she valued him as a person- just that she deserved to know. He tried to hide how much that burned.

“And I didn’t harass anyone. I asked Archie to round up some of his friends because I knew you were running low on volunteers. I thought we could help you guys out.”

Betty gritted her teeth- she wasn’t hearing an answer. Why had he _lied_ to her?

“I asked you point-blank this morning whether you got here early, and you said no-”

“No, I said I hadn’t been here _long,_ which is a subjective measure-”

“ _Bullshit,_ Jughead! You knew exactly what I was asking, and you lied,” Betty crossed her arms.

“Hey, I didn’t lie! I answered the question,” Jughead shot back sharply.

“What about the ‘ _Blue and Gold’_? Why haven’t I seen _any_ of your pieces for that? Why don’t I know anything about the next issue, except that I only wrote two articles?”

“You were really stressed, so I was trying help. I figured I could-” Jughead found himself on the defensive suddenly.

“What, you didn’t think I could handle it?” Betty drew herself up, fire alight in her eyes.

“Betty, that’s not what I said-”

“But that’s what you meant, isn’t it? That I couldn’t handle it? Just because of what you _think_ you saw-”

Jughead scoffed. “So _that’s_ your fall back? Denial? We both know what was happening that day, Betty-”

“So you think I can’t do the _‘Blue and Gold’_ and everything else just because I-” she glanced around, lowering her voice, “- just because I have anxiety? That somehow I can’t handle it all?”

“I didn’t mean- you’re working yourself to the bone, Betty and you have been for god knows how long-”

“Don’t get on that high horse, Jones. You couldn’t have given _less_ of a shit about whatever I was doing before you knew I had anxiety. So don’t you dare insinuate-” Betty was just about unleash the wrath of fury when Jughead interrupted her.

“Is that really what you think of me? That I’d do all this out of _pity_?”

He wasn’t angry. All the heat had left his countenance. Instead, there was just a sense of… disappointment?

Betty was lost- what words were there to even put what she thought into speech? “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Jughead laughed a little bitterly. “I think that says everything then,” he murmured to himself quietly.

For a second longer they stood in a silence that felt heavier than had been between them since Betty’s panic attack. And then, Jughead broke the silence.

“I’ve got this. You can go perform with the River Vixens, or go home, or hang out with Archie. I can handle it from here.”

Uncertainly, Betty tried to catch Jughead’s eyes with her own, but he wouldn’t meet her gaze. Uneasily, she nodded. If she was making him uncomfortable, then she would go.

“Ok. I’ll see you on Monday then?”

She hated that it came out as a question, because she never felt like she knew where she stood with Jughead.

“I guess so,” was Jughead’s non-answer.

As Betty was walking away, she couldn’t help but feel as if something had just been shattered beyond repair. And yet, she couldn’t make herself turn around.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is pretty short but I wanted to amp it up a little more before they can figure out all their feelings! Betty's anxiety is triggered here and she does re-open some old scars, so if you are at all affected by that, here's a heads-up.
> 
> Let me know what you think!

Jughead has never really known decisively what he was good at. Surprisingly enough, high school is a time where kids aren’t actually meant to think about what they _think_ they’re good at- it’s a time to consider what other people think they’re good at.

Jughead knew he was good at his job because he got a small pay raise. He knew he was sarcastic because he got called a ‘smartass’. He had first known he was a good writer because people told him so.

(He never really knew what it meant to be good at writing- it’s just like building a toy castle. You use all the same blocks and rearrange them and somehow people think it’s great. The trick lies in how you put the blocks together- because someone after you is going to use the same ones, so you have to make your castle memorable.

Jughead doesn’t know how it is that he knew how to put the blocks together to make something that other people enjoyed. But he knew he liked doing it, so he kept at it.)

So there are a lot of things Jughead doesn’t really know if he’s good at. But, if there’s one thing Jughead is confident he can do (and do well), it’s make things awkward.

It was a gift he had been blessed with and learnt to embrace- to be the elephant in the room that no one wanted to talk about; the kid from the wrong side of town with a chip on his shoulder, asking all the questions they didn’t have answers to.

If people didn’t like him pushing that point? If they didn’t like him sticking his nose there? Good. It meant he was getting somewhere.

Usually though, he knew where to draw the line in social situations. Or, at least, how to keep out of the conversation and nod so as not to look like the inept social outcast he was. _Usually_.

So Jughead couldn’t say he was surprised that he had made things awkward with Betty. That was pretty standard. He just wasn’t exactly sure _why._

He had expected after their… altercation, on Saturday, that things might be a little stilted. But Betty was just straight up avoiding him- again _._

(It seemed to be her go-to, because facing problems head on would be _ridiculous._ Fortunately, after the last time, he had memorised Betty’s schedule because he knew it would probably come in handy sometime soon. And sure enough-)

Jughead understood that Betty was still clearly uncomfortable with him knowing about her anxiety- else, why would she have reacted so strongly to his attempts to help? It couldn’t be that strange that he would want to help her.

She didn’t like pity at all, so he should probably have cleared that up right away. But dammit, he had needed a moment to collect himself- Jughead just didn’t know how to show Betty that he only wanted to support her.

Jughead might not be great at figuring out how he made things awkward, but he how to begin sorting it out- he needed to talk to Betty. And lucky for him, he knew just where to find her.

-

Jughead heard Betty before he saw her. As he walked into the _‘Blue and Gold’_ office, he could hear Betty’s voice clearly as he made out her figure pacing around the desks.

“No, I’m not going to do that…. Yes, I heard about that, but I’ve already got-.... No I don’t need to up my prescription!”

Betty waited, clearly listening to the person on the other end of the line. She held her phone to her ear by balancing it on her shoulder, and used both hands to smooth her ponytail, a nervous tick Jughead could easily recognise. One hand then fell to her hip as she suppressed a sigh.

“We’re not having this conversation over the phone....No, I’m not sassing you! I just-.. can we do this later?” Betty asked, as she spun suddenly to see Jughead standing in the doorway. “Ok, I’ll see you later. Bye.”

As she hung up, Betty let out a small sigh of relief. Jughead raised an eyebrow.

She answered the unspoken question. “My mom. She’s just so…” Betty paused for a moment; she wasn’t sure there was a word to quite describe Alice Cooper. “But I love her,” she added firmly, leaving the second half of her earlier statement blank.

At her side, her fingers found the grooves of the scars on her palms. She drew a little comfort from that reminder- she was in control. Betty Cooper was _always_ in control.

Jughead hummed at her statement, not noticing her fidgeting. “You can love someone and still not like the way they treat you or act sometimes. Family’s complicated like that.”

_‘Love_ is complicated like that,’ Jughead wanted to add. But he didn’t. Instead, he went with something safer- or, it would have been safer if he wasn't talking to Betty Cooper.

“Are you ok, Betty?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What are you- uh- what are you doing here? Everything’s sorted for print tomorrow.”

Betty asked the question, not quite sure whether she would be able to tackle talking to Jughead right now. Her mother had just had a go at her over the phone about her anxiety, her college applications, her weight- everything about her that wasn’t enough because it _never_ was _-_ and it always made her a little... volatile. 

Still, if there was anyone who would be easy to talk to, it would be him.

“I thought we might need to talk about everything that happened on Saturday,” Jughead said, forehead creasing. “Are you _sure_ you’re ok?”

And that was all Betty really needed to take that vicious energy that was brewing near her hands and turn them into angry words. “Why are you always asking that? I’m fine! You don’t have to check up on me every five seconds!”

Jughead blinked at the sudden hostility. “Sorry, I didn’t realise we were lashing out at each other this early in the week. I just wanted to make sure that you’re feeling alright- you look kind of upset,” he pointed out, getting his own snark under control.

“Well why do _you_ care? It’s none of your business!”

Jughead tried to keep a level head- she was just worried about her anxiety, he shouldn’t be surprised that she was deflecting. “I’m your friend Betty. This is what happens in a friendship; you look out for each other.”

“This isn’t what _any_ relationship is meant to look like. They’re meant to be….” Betty trailed off. She didn’t know how to describe it.

“What, Betty? Relationships aren’t meant to be what? Comfortable? Equal? Have meaning?” Jughead asked, moving his hands between them. He shouldn’t get angry, he just needed to help her work through it. “’Cause you seem to avoid honesty in most of your relationships at school at least.”

(Betty was lost for words, she couldn’t think. Why was it so hot in here?)

Relationships were meant to be just an obvious give and take, and that was it. It was meant to be whispers behind closed doors and picture-perfect smiles when they emerged, as if nothing was wrong. Relationships were meant to fix in neat little boxes and be simple and two dimensional and not make her _feel_ like this.

“They’re not meant to be messy!” Betty burst out. Those crescents felt so old and creased in her palm.

Jughead looked at her incredulously. “‘They’re not meant to be _messy’_? Betty, that’s life! Nothing is perfect and that’s what _makes it_ life. I know things are hard, but you’re not making it any easier for yourself!”

“What, you think I _like_ not being able to sleep at night and being swamped with commitments?” Betty asked. “I can’t just _not_ do it- people are relying on me!”

She felt the tightening around her lungs as her heartbeat began to speed up. _She was so selfish for even thinking about quitting._ And all of a sudden, all that anger disappeared as Betty realised why she was feeling so off balance.

_Oh. I’m on the verge of having a panic attack._

She hated feeling the stress wrap around her, how she felt so weak and stupid and pathetic. She shouldn’t be feeling, she should just let it go; she just wanted to make it _all go away. She wanted to be in control._

Betty fought hard not to show how she was affected; she didn’t need more pity. Jughead’s face swum before her, his words sounding so far away- as if she were underwater. Where was that anger that had been so much easier to deal with? 

Her nails began to press a little harder against those scars.

“Why do you keep trying to please everyone?” Jughead challenged, pulling his beanie off to let his curls fall. “If it doesn’t make you happy then cut it out of your life! You, of all people, deserve to have a life you actually get up _wanting_ to live.”

Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, Jughead wished he could take them back. He had revealed too much- and obviously Betty felt the same way. As the dim light hit Betty’s face, Jughead realised how stupid he had been.

Her eyes were filled with tears and her breaths were sharp. She looked as if she was shaking. How could he be so selfish; he had pushed her into a panic attack by admitting his feelings and hadn’t even noticed.

“Hey, Betty, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out,” Jughead rambled as he jammed his beanie back on- and his feelings back inside iron clad walls. “Can you breathe with me?”

She shouldn’t do it; she was better now. Betty was better, she could handle it. The panic seized her again, as if she were drowning in it. She couldn’t see the light anymore; it was just darkness all around.

Betty may not _need_ to dig her nails in, but she _wanted_ to. She was in control. She was fine.

She felt the tears fall.

Just once more, to make it all go away.

“Betty? Can I touch you?” A voice broke through her haze of tears and cyclical, intrusive thoughts, just as she felt the nails drive with force into her palm. She felt so distant from it all, but vaguely she felt her head nodding.

Suddenly, she felt someone gently taking her hands, tapping a beat on her arm. Betty blinked rapidly in surprise, seeing Jughead holding her wrists as her breaths began to slowly even out to the pace of his taps, bringing her back from the edge.

Usually having someone touching her didn’t help- but Betty would later suppose that was because it hadn’t been a full-fledged panic attack, just bringing up a few topics that triggered her anxiety.

“You know you can tell me when you feel the anxiety getting to be too much, right?” Jughead said, not meeting her eye as he kept tapping away at a rhythm that her breaths matched.

Betty was about to nod, wiping the tears away with one of her hands, when she felt something else wet trickle down her arm.

She must have drawn blood earlier and not noticed, Betty realised absently as she brushed it off, leaving a red stain behind. Slowly, too slowly, Betty put together why she felt as if she should be hiding the blood pooling in the cuts on her hands.

“Where is that- did you cut yourself earlier?” Jughead asked, only seeing the reddish tint left on her skin.

Betty’s tongue felt fat and lazy in her mouth. Why couldn’t she talk? It must be a part of the disassociation, Betty decided. She should say something, but nothing sprung to mind. 

And yet, she couldn’t do anything as he turned her hands over and opened them to see the crescents in her palms, the blood in her fingernails.

“Do you do this to yourself?” Jughead forced it out around the huge lump in his throat, though the sinking dread that settled in his gut made him feel sick to the stomach. He already knew the answer. 

Betty wanted to say something, _anything,_ to reassure him.

Instead, she could only rasp, “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

Jughead felt tears gather in his own eyes. “Oh, Betty…”

He wanted to say so many things- but look at where that had got them. He was the reason she had felt so uncomfortable that she had to use her old coping mechanism to deal with it. So Jughead swallowed every apology, every compliment, every joke and every quip to say what she wanted to hear.

“I promise I won’t tell anyone Betty.”

And was there really anything left to say at all?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And this, my friends, is what I like to call ‘Being Stubborn Idiots: An Interlude’- featuring Veronica and Archie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been getting into the classics recently so apologies if it feels a little long-winded or formal!
> 
> Let me know what you guys think- on the home stretch now!

After the delightful fiasco in the _‘Blue and Gold’_ , Jughead had been considering how best to handle this.

Jughead _would_ try to do some damage control; vaguely attempt, perhaps, to dissuade Betty from believing (rightfully) that she should read into his words- or at least deflect the conversation whenever it came up.

However, considering the current circumstances- by telling her just the smallest fraction of his regard for her, Jughead had triggered her into having a _panic attack_ , she had hurt herself-

( _Betty had hurt herself and she had been hurting herself and he hadn’t noticed, and she had thought he didn’t care and she seemed to_ like _thinking he didn’t because every time he did something to the contrary they got into an argument, so clearly he was making her uncomfortable because he was so obvious-)_

Anyway. He had made his feelings clear ( _more than once)_ and Betty had also made it _abundantly_ obvious that the very idea was anxiety-inducing and horrifying. So instead of trying to talk to her or clarify the situation, Jughead took a page out of Betty’s book- and had been avoiding her for days.

The mere idea of Jughead avoiding her would be enough to ignite Betty’s investigative skills in any other instance. In this case however, Betty simply didn’t notice- chiefly because _she_ was avoiding Jughead; despite the lack of success in this tactic where Jughead was concerned, Betty had faith in it.

Because, unfortunately, Betty had taken something else from their conversation. She had not noticed Jughead’s so-called confessions. What she _had_ noticed was Jughead’s shocked expression upon seeing her scars; the way he had watched her with horror and disgust, at how ugly Betty Cooper was.

(Because the _real_ Betty Cooper was scars and tears, up-tight manners and insecurities, entirely messy and broken, ugly and alone.)

She didn’t want to know what Jughead thought of her now that he had seen every grimy edge of her personality that she kept hidden. Not now that he must understand why she kept so much to herself, why just being Betty could never be good enough.

It can be remarkably hard to find someone when they’re avoiding you. When two individuals are avoiding each other- both believing that they’ve embarrassed themselves thoroughly and both horribly stubborn- the chances of finding one another plummet.

With Jughead reluctant to make a fool out of himself again and Betty unwilling to see the fall-out of her being completely vulnerable, it is likely that they would have continued on in this way for quite some time.

So the state of affairs stood when Veronica Lodge began her vendetta.

She had been seen enough of Jughead and Betty’s relationship recognise the pattern. They seemed to have disputes every so often, followed by a day or so of them both being distracted and reticent- Betty sometimes waxing poetic about Jughead’s arrogance and sometimes being more cagey than ever- and then they would resolve it- though Veronica never actually got to hear the details about that. And then they would fall back into their easy rapport, as if little had transpired.

So when she noticed a distance between the two, Veronica had assumed they’d had another argument about the _‘Blue and Gold’_ layout or whether Jughead’s beanie needed a wash. Betty hadn’t mentioned anything about it, which wasn’t _so_ unusual because Veronica had noticed that sometimes Betty preferred to keep most things relating to Jughead to herself, so Veronica didn’t bring it up. Surely, they could sort it out between themselves.

Except, it didn’t stop; where a disagreement might have been dealt with and moved past, Betty was still distant days later. Clearly, something in the pattern had been altered. So Veronica, being nosy as she was, strove to find out what had happened.

-

“What happened between you and Betty?” Veronica asked with all the subtlety of a freight train as she slid into the booth directly across from Jughead.

“You know Veronica, I was just thinking that all this week needed was an interrogation- thank goodness you’re here. If you weren’t, I might have to- God forbid- actually finish this piece that’s due tomorrow,” Jughead replied, eyes fixed on the computer in front of him.

“Well, if you didn’t want to be interrupted, why come to Pop’s?”

“Gee, it’s not like there isn’t anywhere else to go that’s open this late and still serves coffee. It must be my subconscious at work, telling me I want to be cross-examined by my best friend’s girlfriend,” Jughead shot back, dragging his gaze away from his article to give her a deadpan look.

Veronica was unmoved. “First of all, you can deny it all you want but we’re friends too Jughead. This is me showing I care. And second of all, wow, trying to strike up banter with me? You must really be missing Betty. So, what happened?”

If Veronica had tried pulling this earlier, even just last week, Jughead would have had no trouble in avoiding this conversation. But it was so similar to what he had said to Betty- that he was asking because he cared and he wanted to help, even just as a friend. She was coming from the right place, even if it did feel a little like swallowing fire to hear his words unknowingly repeated back to him. 

He closed his laptop. “And I appreciate that, but…. it’s not really my place to say a lot of it. Have you talked to Betty about this?”

Veronica rolled her eyes. “So it was something big then.”

Jughead didn’t reply.

“Such a gentleman, Jones, respecting a lady’s privacy,” she sighed, rapping her nails on the table in thought. “Could you at least tell me whether you’re going to try and talk to Betty? Usually by now you guys would have worked this out.”

“Yeah, well, this is a little more serious than disagreeing about whether or not the couch in the _‘Blue and Gold’_ is the most comfortable thing to take a nap on,” Jughead took a swig from his coffee. "Which it is, by the way."

“What was it about then?” Veronica pressed.

He let out a groan. “You’re relentless.”

“And you’re deflecting,” she raised an eyebrow.

“Ok, fine,” Jughead acquiesced, pulling his beanie off to fiddle with it instead of meeting the pity in Veronica’s eyes. “I can’t tell you the specifics, but basically, I went out on a limb and made it a little too obvious that I liked Betty.”

At Veronica’s non-reaction, Jughead elaborated. “And her response was… less than favourable. So I’m giving her space; I don’t want to make her feel like I would ever want to make her uncomfortable or force her into anything.”

Veronica’s brow furrowed. That didn’t sound right. But Jughead had been there and Betty probably would have tried to let him down gently, so if he was that certain…

(Veronica was not yet well enough acquainted with Jughead’s character to know he was something of a drama queen and terrible at anything relating to interpreting Betty’s emotions towards him- _especially_ when they were positive.)

"I’m sorry, Jughead,” she offered sincerely. _I really thought she liked you,_ she wanted to add, but knew it was probably best not to.

“Thanks, Veronica. But I’m probably not the one who deserves that. If you see Betty, could you tell her I’m sorry?”

Jughead started gathering his things; Betty liked coming to Pop’s for their milkshakes sometimes at night- it was the one luxury she ever gave herself. He didn’t want to be here and make it awkward for her if she came tonight.

“Are you sure you shouldn’t do it yourself?” Veronica asked, hating to see the pain Jughead was obviously in but not wanting to share.

“I don’t want to trigger anything. I should probably keep my distance for a bit,” Jughead answered shortly, pulling his jacket back on.

“You know Jughead, if you want to talk about anything- or not talk about it and just imagine getting out of Riverdale for a bit, I’m here, and so is Archie.” Veronica rose as well, to face him as he made to leave.

Jughead swallowed thickly- he knew it was an earnest offer. He had forgotten how much he missed having people who actually cared what he was doing. “Thank you, Veronica. I’ll think about it.”

He nodded to her as he threw his bag on his shoulder and was about to leave when a thought struck him.

“Veronica? You should really talk to Betty. I think she really needs some support right now.”

_And even if I can’t give it, I want to make sure Betty knows she is loved._

He gave her a weak sort of smile as he left the neon lights of Pop’s behind, taking in a deep breath of the night air, sharp and biting as it was. It burned a little but made him feel a little more alive- as if there were possibilities beyond what he could comprehend, and this moment was just one crossroads from millions. And even though it hurt a little as he drew it into his lungs- as if he could never get enough of it- Jughead couldn’t help but marvel at how beautiful the night was.

(It felt like love- like hope and agony and beauty and something _alive_.)

Jughead wondered if, somewhere, Betty was breathing in the same night air.

-

“Betty? What are you doing out here?”

Veronica found Betty the next day, sitting on the bleachers in free period, despite it being winter and the air feeling as if it had blown straight from Antarctica. Her head jerked up at her name and she spun around to find Veronica.

“Hey Veronica. I thought I’d take advantage of the weather and do some writing out here.”

“The weather?” Veronica asked sceptically, pulling her coat tighter around her.

Betty nodded.

“So it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you and Jughead have been avoiding each other and this is when you’re usually at the _‘Blue and Gold’_? No relation?”

“None,” Betty lied through her- chattering- teeth.

Betty had to admit, her lying had got a hell of a lot worse since Jughead had found out about her anxiety.

(Maybe because she had found herself having to lie a whole lot less about what she was doing and feeling- because somehow, Jughead made everything else seem easier. _Though, of course_ , she reminded herself _, that might have had to do with the fact that he had been babying her._ Still, upon reflection, Betty- however reluctant she was to admit it to herself- found that she didn’t really care that he had lessened her workload. It had more been that she didn’t know how to respond to someone doing something like that for her, and she was nervous that she was reading it- _him_ \- wrong.)

Veronica obviously agreed.

“Sure. I mean, it’s so nice out here, I can see why you’d want to spend time out here instead of in the office that’s empty because Jughead’s in the library.” Veronica's innocent air drew a heavy side-eye from Betty. 

“Are you lying?” Betty asked suspiciously.

“Only one way to find out, I guess,” Veronica replied flippantly.

Betty weighed up her options, ignoring the spreading numbness in her toes and nose.

If she was lying, it would be horribly awkward… but Veronica _had_ said that Jughead was avoiding her too- she resolved to ignore the sharp pang of anxiety at that and the dull ache of rejection that accompanied it. If she wasn’t lying, Betty was freezing her ass off for no reason.

“Alright. I guess I’ve had my fair share of fresh air for today.”

Veronica grinned.

To Betty’s mild surprise, the Blue and Gold was as empty as Veronica had said it was. Her friend followed her in as Betty threw herself on the couch- she would never admit it to Jughead, but it was growing on her. At this point, it smelt of coffee and books and was more comfortable than Betty’s own bed.

As Veronica leant herself primly against one of the desks that cluttered the space, Betty eyed her. Clearly, she had an agenda- and she wasted no time in voicing it, even as Betty felt her extremities defrosting. 

“So. You’ve been avoiding Jughead.”

It wasn’t a question, so Betty wasn’t quite sure how to respond. She shrugged, avoiding Veronica’s eyes.

“Are you ok? Did something happen?”

Betty was so sick of lying, she ignored the first question. “On Monday we….” Betty paused. What could she say that made any sense? She left her hesitation and went on, “And now everything’s just monumentally messed up.”

“You don’t think you guys can work it out?”

Betty laughed a little bitterly. “I don’t think he can even stand to look at me at this point.”

Veronica’s expression twisted from compassion to confusion- that didn’t sound right, with what Jughead had told her.

Carefully, she tested the waters. “Betty, I’ve never seen Jughead as happy as he is when he’s with you. And you’ve loved the newspaper even more since he joined. Surely you guys can figure something out?”

Betty skirted around the issue, picking up only selective parts. “You’re still new in town, V- a few years doesn’t exactly equal a lifetime. I grew up with him! I think I would have noticed if Jughead was affected by me at all. And now…” she trailed off, swallowing heavily through a sandpaper throat.

“That’s only because you don’t see him when he’s not around you! You’re the only one that he ever does that banter with and he _never_ looks at anyone the way he looks at- why are you shaking your head?”

“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter,” Betty said, as if repeating it would make it true. She pressed her head into her hands until spots appeared in front of her closed eyes, sighing. “Because after… everything- he, he wouldn’t see me like that anymore.”

“Well why not? What could have possibly happened to make the way that boy looks at you ‘not matter’?” Veronica asked, arms crossed.

Betty drew in a short breath. She had been thinking about it for a while- and right now, she could really use some support. She knew Veronica would understand, she just had to shut up that little voice in her head that always told her she was worth less.

Jughead had always encouraged her to talk about it- maybe it would help, even if the boy himself wasn’t here.

“I, uh, I’m not sure if you might have noticed anything… I mean, I tried not to be obvious about it but _clearly_ I didn’t do that well…. I guess I should just get it out with. I, I um, have anxiety,” Betty blurted, twisting her hands in her lap.

She didn’t want to look up- Betty didn’t know what she’d do if Veronica rejected her. She was just barely keeping it together after Jughead had been so repulsed by her.

Betty didn’t realise she was crying until she felt Veronica’s arms around her- it had been so long since she had cried, not prompted by a panic attack. It almost felt as if she couldn’t breathe as the sobs wracked her body. Why did it have to hurt so much? Why did everything always have to happen so often, why couldn’t it all just stop?

But for that moment at least, Betty allowed herself to grieve for her friends and for Jughead and for herself- because when she felt so broken and fragile and stupid and ugly, how could she stand to be around anyone? How many people had she hurt by trying to pretend everything was fine and then when they noticed she wasn’t, she pushed them away?

(She knew the number was at least one.)

It can be something so emotionally relieving, to cry. Just letting go of all those tensions you pushed down- ignoring all those barriers you erected and letting yourself exist without expectations or anxieties. So when Betty finally felt the waves coming more gently, she drew in deep breaths, letting out a weak chuckle as she lifted her head from Veronica’s shoulder.

“Sorry I ruined your dress.”

“You ruined nothing, B, this is why you wear black- no one can see the mascara stains,” Veronica brushed it off, leaning back to look at her face, concerned. “So anxiety, huh?”

“Yeah. It just doesn’t go away, so sometimes it feels like all I do is fight it,” Betty admitted and found that she couldn’t stop. “And I wanted to tell you, but I was scared, and I wouldn’t have told Jughead, but he saw me having a panic attack and he helped. And then it all kind of just spiralled from there; he’s actually the one who encouraged me to tell you, but I didn’t want to deal with… everything that came from that.” Betty ran out of steam, slightly breathless.

Veronica blinked. That was a lot to process. Well, first things first- support as a friend, always _._

“Betty, thank you for telling me. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been-it must be to deal with all that. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I wouldn’t accept you or for not noticing when you were struggling-”

“That’s not your fault at all, I didn’t _want_ anyone to notice, that’s part of why I got so wrapped up in participating in everything- so people couldn’t tell-” Betty interjected.

Veronica squeezed Betty’s hand. “Still. I’m sorry. You’re my best friend, and I didn’t realise what was happening. But I am glad that you had someone to help you with this, especially when you were having panic attacks.”

Betty smiled a little through new tears shimmering in her eyes. “Jughead was really good with it all. He never made me feel like I was a basket-case, he just made me laugh and moved on. And he kept saying I should drop some of my extracurriculars- and I knew he was right, that they weren’t helping, but I didn’t want to have to acknowledge what that meant so I lashed out.”

She dropped her eyes, thinking about it. Betty had a lot of time to consider everything over the week, so even if she couldn’t bear to think about actually talking to Jughead about it, she had agonised about where she had gone wrong.

“That didn’t seem to stop him though,” Veronica commented. “I mean, I assume you know about the fundraiser set up and how he wanted to give you an extra few hours’ sleep because he knew you’d been pulling all-nighters. And now it makes sense why Pop was saying he was drinking so much coffee that week- because he was finishing articles.”

Betty nodded. “That’s actually why we were fighting on Saturday. I just- I’m not used to people doing that kind of thing. He kind of took me off guard because he didn’t even tell me- and it’s not like he doesn’t talk enough to do it; Jughead is a lot of things, but concise is not one of them,” she finished with a slight twitch of her lips, still pensive.

Veronica could tell that Betty really just needed to empty out her heart more than anything else. “So, what are you afraid of?”

“Not being perfect,” flew past Betty’s lips before she could catch it.

“Right. And does Jughead make you feel like you aren’t?” Veronica asked, filing away some things for later discussions- right now, Betty just needed to sort out the mess in her head.

“No!” Betty baulked for a moment at how quickly the answer rose to mind, pausing to truly consider the question. “He makes me feel… more than perfect. He makes me feel like myself. And it’s terrifying- because what if I’m not? What if I’m not the person he thinks I am, without all this cheerleading and dance committees and stress?”

“Are you just afraid that without all these masks you don’t know who you are?”

Betty blinked.

“I guess so. I don’t even know who I am without anxiety! Not that _that_ has helped matters with Jughead. I had a panic attack on Monday, and it was… a lot worse than they have been for a while. And Jughead saw it and I think it freaked him out because he saw my scars, and I was just horrible and ugly and-”

“Betty Cooper.” Veronica’s voice was firm, “You are many things, but you could never be ugly. Because you are smart and driven and funny and kind- and that is more beautiful than any stupid hair or scars. And I can guarantee with the way that Jughead looks at you in class, he thinks the same.”

“Why has he been avoiding me then?” Betty asked quietly.

Veronica cursed that she couldn’t spill her guts right then and there.

“Why don’t you ask _him_?”

-

Betty was still thinking over Veronica’s words when the period ended and Veronica herself had been called to the office on River Vixen business with Cheryl. She was still sitting on the couch when a knock startled her out of her musings.

“Betty?”

“Oh Archie, hi.” Betty’s pulse fell, as her stomach swooped- why had she assumed (why had she _hoped)_ it would be Jughead?

“Hey. Are you alright? You look a little rattled.” Her best friend from childhood looked at her from the doorway, concerned. Betty knew she should do something, that she should tell him about her anxiety or assure him she was fine.

Instead, she gave him a half-smile. “I think I’m going to be alright. Once I talk to Jughead, at least.”

“Oh, are you guys good? ‘Cause he’s been kind of bummed all week.” Archie half-entered the room, glancing around.

“Yeah, we just need to work something out, once I actually build up the courage to talk to him,” Betty told Archie. “You want to walk to lunch together?”

Archie nodded. He knew how she sometimes struggled with confidence- not to the degree it went, but that she did have difficulty with it. Archie had sensed there was something happening between Jughead and Betty- and even if he wasn’t quite sure what it was, he wanted to help where he could.

“Hey Betty?”

“Yeah?” Betty had to fiddle around with some papers before she could leave.

He scratched the back of his neck, resolving to just go for it. “I know that you and Jughead have got something going on, and it’s a little bumpy. And I know that you don’t really like when things get complicated- I don’t either- especially when you think the other person is going to bail.”

Betty swallowed, avoiding Archie’s searching gaze. Clearly, she was more transparent than she’d hoped.

Archie went on. “But Betty, if there’s anyone who doesn’t mind messy, it’s Jughead. You know that he won’t leave you hanging. He didn’t when my parents divorced, or when the whole football team was making things tough on him. Jughead isn’t one to give up just ‘cause things get hard.”

Betty tried not to show how much those words affected her. Because Archie was right- Jughead never shied away from things that were messy.

Maybe, just maybe, Veronica and Archie were right.

There was only one way to be sure; this time, Betty was going to be chasing Jughead.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finale!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finished! 
> 
> This has definitely been a trip, thank you so much for reading and commenting- they always make my day! 
> 
> Let me know what you thought, if you think I could've have done anything better (I can certainly point out some things, but I'm too tired to try and fix it now) and what you think of my finish! 
> 
> And so, without any further ado, the final chapter!

A big piece of life advice always seems to be to live life to the fullest- that is, to live without regrets. And the way to do this always seems to be hinted at to be doing the things you don’t think you have the courage to do.

Betty thought that was total bullshit. She knew, herself, that she regretted more of the things she had done than the things she hadn’t; all those extra commitments that sucked up any free time, all those times she had said something when she shouldn’t have or all the times she had done something she would cringe to think of later.

So no, Betty didn’t think that the way to live with no regrets was to try everything. Sometimes, having no regrets meant considering your options first, understanding the repercussions before you do anything.

And that’s exactly what Betty did while trying to figure out how to explain exactly what was going on in her head and why she was… the way that she was to Jughead Jones.

Because deciding to talk to Jughead was all very well and good, but actually working out what to say and when to say it was a little more of a struggle in social finesse- and this conversation was not one that she wanted to regret.

Betty wanted to tell him that she was grateful that he had been helping her and that this had been the best year she’d had in high school easily (and not just because he had been lowering her workload but because she really liked talking to him and he was sweet and he made her heartbeat go just a little faster every time her shot her one of those lazy grins he only seemed to give to her). But how could she say all that when she didn’t even know where she stood with him?

So instead of thinking about content, Betty thought about context; how could she talk to Jughead- where was somewhere she knew he would be?

Thinking logically, Betty figured that the best move was to call Jughead. Then they could either bash it out over the phone (not great, but it would be easier to get it all out when she couldn’t see his reaction and he couldn’t see how he affected her) or ask him if they could meet. All she had to do was call him. Simple.

Later, sitting in her bedroom with her finger hovering above the number in her contacts, Betty was forced to admit, not so simple.

She should just press it. _Just press the button, Betty_ , she urged herself. But she couldn’t. Betty knew she was being stupid- she sat there for half an hour, just staring at the digits- and yet she couldn’t make herself call him.

What if he didn’t want her to call? What if she was reading everything wrong and didn’t want to talk to her? What if Jughead was happy with the way they had left things- what if he had decided he didn’t want to be anywhere near her now he had seen everything?

Betty knew she could drive herself mad with ‘what if’s, but she couldn’t stop. _At this rate,_ she could tell, _she would go insane from second-guessing and overthinking it before she actually called him._

She groaned, dragging a hand over her face- why couldn’t she just not freak out over things that didn’t matter? Betty returned her gaze to her phone as the display turned off, and she couldn’t help but stare at her reflection in the blank screen for a while, long enough that she didn’t really recognise the face in the glass at all.

Blinking suddenly, Betty pulled herself out of her trance. This was ridiculous. She wasn’t doing this over the phone. Tomorrow, she was going to track down Jughead herself.

-

Jughead wasn’t hard to find- he had always found it easiest to hide in plain sight, so Betty was unsurprised that his avoidance tactics weren’t up to scratch. Usually, he was the one trying to track her down, but not this time. This time, Betty was doing her very best to gather her courage; there didn’t appear to be much of it _to_ gather, but she tried not to let that deter her.

If Betty knew Jughead at all, which she did, she could count on Jughead being in the _‘Blue and Gold’_ whenever he thought she wouldn’t be- because a) he was avoiding her but b) he didn’t have anywhere to write that was uninterrupted and the couch was “the most comfortable thing in existence” (Jughead’s words, not hers).

So, she knew where to find him and when- all Betty had to do was actually go in. And yet, once again, she found herself paralysed. As she stood outside the office, hand resting on the door knob, Betty tried to find any confidence to make the swirling pit of anxiety in her stomach disappear. _Just go in, Betty._

Taking a deep breath, Betty put her head in her hands. She didn’t want to have to do this- for now, it was just a few seconds longer where she could imagine that she and Jughead weren’t as far away as she thought they were. But as soon as she went into the office, Betty had to face the possibility that she had driven him away- and had absolutely no chance to blurt out, however awkwardly, her feelings for him, along with her apologies for… everything.

She just… she just wanted it to be easier. Betty wanted to be able to just go in there and talk to him, but her feet felt as if they wouldn’t move forwards. It wasn’t like Jughead had made any attempt to talk to her- Betty would just be forcing herself on him. He wouldn’t want her there; she should just go.

Betty pulled her hand back like the door handle had burnt her and spun on her heel. She could come back tomorrow, or maybe just send a text so she could edit herself and not back out of it.

Unfortunately for Betty- but, coincidentally enough, it was fortunate for pretty much everyone else, including future her- the universe had decided it was sick of Betty Cooper’s self-doubting spiral shit.

“Betty?”

Jughead certainly hadn’t expected to see her outside the _‘Blue and Gold’_ \- in fact, he had just been about to leave because he knew she sometimes came to edit her articles after cheerleading before she went home for the day. And yet, lo and behold, when he opened the door, Betty looked as if she had been fleeing.

_She must have seen him in there,_ he realised _, and been trying to get away before he came out._

Betty whirled around; eyes wide. This hadn’t been part of the plan.

“Where you going to come in? Because I was just leaving, so you’ll have it all to yourself,” Jughead gestured vaguely behind him, as if he were trying to sell the musty office where they had made a bubble separate from everything else.

Almost as soon as he got the words out though, Betty was responding. “No! No, no, I wasn’t coming in. I mean, I was _going_ to come in, but not to work, and then I got a text, so.” Betty flashed her empty lock screen in Jughead’s direction.

He fought to keep his eyebrows down and face impassive; Jughead understood that she was lying because she wanted an escape route and didn’t feel comfortable- but did she have to lie so badly?

“Right, sorry. I’ll let you get back to that then.” Jughead’s sarcasm would have been imperceptible to anyone who hadn’t spent as much time with him as Betty had, who didn’t know or understand him as well as Betty.

And so, Betty’s own disbelief was triggered as a hand flew to her hip. “You don’t think I’ve got somewhere to be?”

“I’ve got no doubt you’ve got somewhere to be,” Jughead replied.

“But? There’s always a ‘but’ with you.” Betty had forgotten how easy it was to fall into conversation with Jughead.

“No ‘but’.” At Betty’s raised eyebrow, Jughead let the other shoe drop ( _she initiated the continuance of the conversation, maybe she didn’t hate him?_ ). “Ok, well, I’m sure you’ve got somewhere to be, _but…_ I don’t think that you were standing outside the office, just waiting for that text.”

Betty smiled lightly. This was it. No more backing out, no more pretending she could put it off or pretend that it wasn’t a problem. _Just do it, Betty._

“Alright, maybe not.” Before Jughead could enjoy his being right, Betty continued, “I wanted to talk to you. I think we might need to talk about Monday? Or, well, really, I’ve got to say a lot more than just about Monday, but I think that’s as good a starting point as any. Can we go in?”

_No regrets._ Betty avoided looking at Jughead’s face, so she didn’t see the stiffening in his shoulders, the nervousness in his eyes.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, come in,” Jughead opened the door a little wider before retreating into the office.

Betty followed him in, closing the door a little hesitantly behind her. _No going back now._

“So,” Jughead started, fiddling around in some of the unused desks, internally marvelling at the symmetry to the first time they had been in this office together.

“So. Monday.” Betty prompted herself but couldn’t find any more words, before Jughead jumped in, wanting to make himself abundantly clear.

“I’m pretty sure it goes without saying that I’m not telling anyone about this- because it’s not my place, and because you said you were getting help and I believe you- but I just wanted to make it clear that I wouldn’t tell anyone-”

“I know.”

“-and I don’t want to- what?” Jughead stopped as her words registered.

“I trust you, Jughead. I know you won’t tell anyone. I shouldn’t have reverted to that- old habits, I guess- and I’m sorry. And I really do appreciate all the help you’ve been giving me, with the _‘Blue and Gold’_ and volunteering and everything.” Betty paused, waiting to see Jughead’s response.

_She trusts me,_ was all Jughead could think. Betty _apologised_ to him. This was a very different conversation from what he had expected. This was so much worse- he ahd broken her trust and hurt her when she was vulnerable- oh God, she was never going to be able to forgive him. Hell, he was never going to forgive himself.

“You trust me?” He managed to choke out.

Betty was a little confused that _that_ was what Jughead pulled out of that whole thing but continued all the same.

“Of course. I know that I haven’t really told you before but you’re the person who knows me best. But I’m not really used to anyone doing something like that- helping and everything- for me and it took me by surprise, so I’m sorry for overreacting- on Saturday, and on Monday as well-”

At this point, Jughead tried to interrupt and explain that it _wasn’t overreacting_ , but Betty was on a roll and didn’t give him an opening.

“-I just really hated the idea that someone would help me out of pity, especially you.”

She ran out of steam here, as she studied Jughead’s countenance, trying to gauge a reaction.

“You’re the person who knows me best as well, Betty. So you, of all people, should know that I wouldn’t do that out of pity- I just wanted to help. But you didn’t _overreact_ on Monday- they’re your feelings and they’re valid, so you only have to tell me and I’ll back off, I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or like we can’t be friends-”

Betty’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“You know. What I said on Monday?”

At her uncomprehending look, Jughead flushed slightly- was he really going to have to say it? He supposed he hadn’t _explicitly_ said it… but it was very much implied. And yet Betty still looked at him, completely confused. Maybe, just maybe, he had been looking at this wrong.

“What do you think was happening on Monday, Betty?” He asked cautiously.

“Well, I flipped out a little and you tried to help but I was already having a bit of a bad panic attack. And then you calmed me down and saw my scars and have been avoiding me since.” Betty said it very matter-of-factly, as if each fact clearly followed the others.

Jughead’s eyebrows leaped- if she was implying what he thought she was…

“Wait, I’m sorry. Do you think I’ve been avoiding you because of the cuts on your palms?” At her immediate nod, as if it were obvious, Jughead burst out, “ _Why?”_

“You hadn’t exactly seen the nastiest parts of my anxiety. It’s messy, and ugly and just-”

But Jughead was already shaking his head. He could just tell by the way she was talking that Betty hadn’t entirely been talking about her anxiety- had she been describing _herself_ with those words? He dragged his gaze away from where he had been avoiding looking at her, and his eyes met hers.

“Betty. I’m not running away. I don’t care if it’s messy or gross- I think that sums up about 50% of life. I’m not afraid of things getting hard; I just want to help. And I know that anxiety isn’t pretty or easy, but it doesn’t define you. It’s a part of you, yes, but you’re the most beautiful soul I’ve ever seen- everything about you, with or without the anxiety, because you’re _you_ , Betty Cooper _._ ”

Surely, she had to know. Even if she hadn’t before, then now- she _must_.

Betty felt some tears gather in her eyes- she was never beautiful, only pretty or nice or smart, but when Jughead said “beautiful”, she knew he didn’t just mean her face. He meant _her._ She didn’t know what to say to that- but somewhere her brain must still have been working because words were still falling off her lips.

“So if you weren’t avoiding me because of that, then why…?”

Jughead half-laughed, eyes dropping again. “That. Right. Well, I’m not sure how much you remember of our conversation, but I said something that was a little more… open, than I meant it to be, and I thought I made you uncomfortable.”

That was _very_ vague; Betty searched her memory, trying to recall anything like what Jughead was briefly describing- she supposed brevity was the soul of wit, but that had never been a virtue Jughead had preached, or embodied, before.

And then, a possibility occurred to her- or, one that she had been considering, hoping, that she might, just maybe, be right in thinking that her feelings could be returned…?

_Just do it, Betty._

One way or another, she had to know. No more Schrödinger’s cat of feelings- just face it, head on.

_Just do it, Betty._

So she did it.

“Jughead, you’re sarcastic and smart and funny and a _fairly_ decent baker. You make me feel safe and confident and fun because you were patient and sweet, and you know me better than anyone else- and I was coming this afternoon to tell you that I _really_ hope I’m reading this right, because I _really_ like you.”

She did it.

Betty had just told someone, truly and honestly how she felt, and it felt- terrifying, to be honest. Those few seconds where Jughead stared at her, looking as if he were frozen while his brain struggled to process a flood of new information, Betty felt her anxiety tighten slightly around her lungs in the wake of her slightly fumbled confession. She could almost feel the weight of regret around her neck become heavier.

And then, a smile began to break across Jughead’s face as he took a step towards her.

“Betty. You’re an absolute disaster. Truly. You hate getting help and would rather juggle fifty commitments than tell anyone you’re struggling. But you’re also ridiculously smart, and you’re kind and you make me laugh more than anyone else. You’re focused and brave and feel more like home than anyone else I’ve ever met and clearly better at social interaction since you read me exactly right. I really like you, Betty Cooper. And I’m sorry if that’s messy, because I think it’s beautiful.”

Jughead took another step in towards her, until they were toe-to-toe. Betty wondered at how blue his eyes were and, when they took that final step, she slipped her hand into his hair, his ebony curls and beanie so _Jughead_ that it made a rush of warmth rise in her chest.

When Jughead kissed her for the first time in the _‘Blue and Gold’_ , Betty couldn’t stop smiling.

It had been a hectic few weeks- hell, a hectic few _years-_ to get them to this point, but she didn’t regret any of it. They had needed those years of inactivity, of decisions not made to bring them here. Where they could let go of the people who had been telling them right from wrong- where they didn’t have to be what the world had made them feel as if they needed to be; they were who they had wanted to be.

Their relationship wasn’t perfect- neither of them were. Betty still had bad days, where she felt like she wasn’t enough; Jughead still had days where he felt like he was too much, where things simply didn’t work, when things were messy.

But neither of them minded messy. They grew together, they learnt how to take the bad with the good, because the latter outweighed the former.

That was a little ways down the road though. For now, they were content in the safe haven they had created, a world kept inside the four walls of the dusty office, in a high school in a small town.

They wouldn’t announce their relationship- there wouldn’t be a need to. Anyone would be able to see the way their hands wove together or the light banter they threw between them, interspersed with smiles or looks meant only for each other.

Veronica would grin to see her friends so happy, and proudly recount her part in their story at dinners for many years to come. Archie, meanwhile, would be a little more subtle, though no less overjoyed at Betty and Jughead finally both admitting exactly what they were to each other.

So it wasn’t a relationship that was ever boring. Writing, sarcasm and stories, banter and care would keep it to become something that neither Betty nor Jughead would ever renounce.

But that’s another story entirely.

For now, we leave them in the _‘Blue and Gold’_ , where it all began, and as they settle on the couch to spar over the front-page format, their twin grins speak for themselves. They’ll both be alright, and there will be few regrets left between them.


End file.
